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A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
^y
A DIVERSITY
OF CREATURES
BY
RUDYARD KIPLING
' Praised be Allah for the diversity of His creatures.'
Arabian Nights.
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1917
7
COPYRIGHT
10055'
PREFACE
With three exceptions, the dates at the head of
these stories show when they were published in
magazine form. ' The Village that Voted the
Earth was Flat,' ' Regulus,' and * My Son's Wife '
carry the dates when they were written.
RUDYARD KIPLING.
CONTENTS
As Easy as A.B.C. .
I
MacDonougtts Song .
43
Friendly Brook .
45
The Land ......
63
In the Same Boat ■
69
1 Helen all Alone ' .
103
The Honours of War
105
The Children ....
129
The Dog Hervey . .
131
The Comforters ....
158
The Village that Voted the Earth was Flat .
. 161
The Press .....
214
In the Presence ....
217
Jobson's Amen ....
• 237
Regulus .
• 239
A Translation ....
■ 271
viii A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
The Edge of the Evening
PAGE
273
Rebirth
299
The Horse Marines .
301
The Legend of Mirth
329
1 My Son's Wife ' .
333
The Floods
377
The Fabulists
379
The Vortex .
381
The Song of Seven Cities
4° 3
' Swept and Garnished '
407
Mary Postgate
419
The Beginnings
442
As Easy as A. B.C.
(1912)
The A. B.C., that semi -elected, semi - nominated
body of a few score persons, controls the Planet.
Transportation is Civilisation, our motto runs.
Theoretically we do what we please, so long as ws
Jo not interfere with the traffic and all it implies.
Practically, the A. B.C. confirms or annuls all inter-
national arrangements, and, to judge from its last
report, finds our tolerant, humorous, lazy little
Planet only too ready to shift the whole burden of
public administration on its shoulders.
' With the Night Mail: J
Isn't it almost time that our Planet took some
interest in the proceedings of the Aerial Board of
Control ? One knows that easy communications
nowadays, and lack of privacy in the past, have
killed all curiosity among mankind, but as the
Board's Official Reporter I am bound to tell my
tale.
At 9.30 a.m., August 26, a.d. 2065, the Board,
sitting in London, was informed by De Forest
1 Actions and Reactions.
f£ 1 B
2 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
that the District of Northern Illinois had riotously-
cut itself out of all systems and would remain
disconnected till the Board should take over and
administer it direct.
Every Northern Illinois freight and passenger
tower was, he reported, out of action ; all District
main, local, and guiding lights had been ex-
tinguished ; all General Communications were
dumb, and through traffic had been diverted.
No reason had been given, but he gathered
unofficially from the Mayor of Chicago that the
District complained of ' crowd-making and in-
vasion of privacy.'
As a matter of fact, it is of no importance
whether Northern Illinois stay in or out of
planetary circuit ; as a matter of policy, any
complaint of invasion of privacy needs immediate
investigation, lest worse follow.
By 9.45 a.m. De Forest, DragomirofF (Russia),
Takahira (Japan), and Pirolo (Italy) were em-
powered to visit Illinois and ' to take such steps
as might be necessary for the resumption of
traffic and all that that implies? By 10 a.m. the
Hall was empty, and the four Members and I
were aboard what Pirolo insisted on calling ' my
leetle godchild ' — that is to say, the new Victor
Pirolo. Our Planet prefers to know Victor Pirolo
as a gentle, grey-haired enthusiast who spends his
time near Foggia, inventing or creating new
breeds of Spanish-Italian olive-trees ; but there is
another side to his nature — the manufacture of
quaint inventions, of which the Victor Pirolo is,
perhaps, not the least surprising. She and a few
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 3
score sister-craft of the same type embody his
latest ideas. But she is not comfortable. An
A.B.C. boat does not take the air with the level-
keeled lift of a liner, but shoots up rocket-fashion
like the ' aeroplane ' of our ancestors, and makes
her height at top-speed from the first. That is
why I found myself sitting suddenly on the large
lap of Eustace Arnott, who commands the A.B.C.
Fleet. One knows vaguely that there is such a
thing as a Fleet somewhere on the Planet, and
that, theoretically, it exists for the purposes of
what used to be known as ' war.' Only a week
before, while visiting a glacier sanatorium behind
Gothaven, I had seen some squadrons making false
auroras far to the north while they manoeuvred
round the Pole ; but, naturally, it had never
occurred to me that the things could be used in
earnest.
Said Arnott to De Forest as I staggered to a
seat on the chart-room divan : ' We're tremen-
dously grateful to 'em in Illinois. We've never had
a chance of exercising all the Fleet together.
I've turned in a General Call, and I expect we'll
have at least two hundred keels aloft this evening.'
' Well aloft ? ' De Forest asked.
* Of course, sir. Out of sight till they're
called for.'
Arnott laughed as he lolled over the transparent
chart-table where the map of the summer-blue
Atlantic slid along, degree by degree, in exact
answer to our progress. Our dial already showed
320 m.p.h. and we were two thousand feet above
the uppermost traffic lines.
4 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* Now, where is this Illinois District of yours ? '
said Dragomiroff. 'One travels so much, one sees
so little. Oh, I remember ! It is in North America.'
De Forest, whose business it is to know the
out districts, told us that it lay at the foot
of Lake Michigan, on a road to nowhere in
particular, was about half an hour's run from end to
end, and, except in one corner, as flat as the sea.
Like most flat countries nowadays, it was heavily
guarded against invasion of privacy by forced
timber — fifty-foot spruce and tamarack, grown in
five years. The population was close on two
millions, largely migratory between Florida and
California, with a backbone of small farms (they
call a thousand acres a farm in Illinois) whose
owners come into Chicago for amusements and
society during the winter. They were, he said,
noticeably kind, quiet folk, but a little exacting,
as all flat countries must be, in their notions of
privacy. There had, for instance, been no printed
news - sheet in Illinois for twenty - seven years.
Chicago argued that engines for printed news
sooner or later developed into engines for invasion
of privacy, which in turn might bring the old
terror of Crowds and blackmail back to the Planet.
So news-sheets were not.
'And that's Illinois,' De Forest concluded.
' You see, in the Old Days, she was in the fore-
front of what they used to call ''progress," and
Chicago '
' Chicago ? ' said Takahira. ' That's the little
place where there is Salati's Statue of the Nigger
in Flames? A fine bit of old work.'
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 5
' When did you see it ? ' asked De Forest
quickly. ' They only unveil it once a year.'
' I know. At Thanksgiving. It was then,'
said Takahira, with a shudder. ' And they sang
MacDonough's Song, too.'
* Whew ! ' De Forest whistled. ' I did not
know that ! 1 wish you'd told me before.
MacDonough's Song may have had its uses when
it was composed, but it was an infernal legacy for
any man to leave behind.'
' It's protective instinct, my dear fellows,' said
Pirolo, rolling a cigarette. * The Planet, she has
had her dose of popular government. She suffers
from inherited agoraphobia. She has no — ah —
use for crowds.'
Dragomiroff leaned forward to give him a
light. ' Certainly,' said the white - bearded
Russian, ' the Planet has taken all precautions
against crowds for the past hundred years. What
is our total population to-day ? Six hundred
million, we hope ; five hundred, we think ; but —
but if next year's census shows more than four
hundred and fifty, I myself will eat all the extra
little babies. We have cut the birth-rate out —
right out ! For a long time we have said to
Almighty God, " Thank You, Sir, but we do not
much like Your game of life, so we will not play." '
' Anyhow,' said Arnott defiantly, ' men live
a century apiece on the average now.'
' Oh, that is quite well ! I am rich — you are
rich — we are all rich and happy because we are so
few and we live so long. Only / think Almighty
God He will remember what the Planet was like
6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
in the time of Crowds and the Plague. Perhaps
He will send us nerves. Eh, Pirolo ? '
The Italian blinked into space. ' Perhaps,'
he said, * He has sent them already. Anyhow,
you cannot argue with the Planet. She does not
forget the Old Days, and — what can you do ? '
1 For sure we can't remake the world.'
De Forest glanced at the map flowing smoothly
across the table from west to east. ' We ought
to be over our ground by nine to-night. There
won't be much sleep afterwards.'
On which hint we dispersed, and I slept till
Takahira waked me for dinner. Our ancestors
thought nine hours' sleep ample for their little
lives. We, living thirty years longer, feel our-
selves defrauded with less than eleven out of the
twenty-four.
By ten o'clock we were over Lake Michigan.
The west shore was lightless, except for a dull
ground -glare at Chicago, and a single traffic-
directing light — its leading beam pointing north —
at Waukegan on our starboard bow. None of
the Lake villages gave any sign of life ; and
inland, westward, so far as we could see, blackness
lay unbroken on the level earth. We swooped
down and skimmed low across the dark, throwing
calls county by county. Now and again we
picked up the faint glimmer of a house-light, or
heard the rasp and rend of a cultivator being
played across the fields, but Northern Illinois as
a whole was one inky, apparently uninhabited,
waste of high, forced woods. Only our illuminated
map, with its little pointer switching from county
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 7
to county, as we wheeled and twisted, gave us any
idea of our position. Our calls, urgent, pleading,
coaxing or commanding, through the General
Communicator brought no answer. Illinois
strictly maintained her own privacy in the timber
which she grew for that purpose.
' Oh, this is absurd ! ' said De Forest.
1 We're like an owl trying to work, a wheat-field.
Is this Bureau Creek? Let's land, Arnott, and
get hold of some one.'
We brushed over a belt of forced woodland —
fifteen-year-old maple sixty feet high — grounded
on a private meadow-dock, none too big, where
we moored to our own grapnels, and hurried out
through the warm dark night towards a light in
a verandah. As we neared the garden gate I
could have sworn we had stepped knee-deep in
quicksand, for we could scarcely drag our feet
against the prickling currents that clogged them.
After five paces we stopped, wiping our foreheads,
as hopelessly stuck on dry smooth turf as so many
cows in a bog.
' Pest ! ' cried Pirolo angrily. ' We are
ground-circuited. And it is my own system of
ground-circuits too ! I know the pull.'
' Good evening,' said a girl's voice from the
verandah. ' Oh, I'm sorry ! We've locked up.
Wait a minute.'
We heard the click of a switch, and almost fell
forward as the currents round our knees were
withdrawn.
The girl laughed, and laid aside her knitting.
An old-fashioned Controller stood at her elbow,
8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
which she reversed from time to time, and we
could hear the snort and clank of the obedient
cultivator half a mile away, behind the guardian
woods.
* Come in and sit down,' she said. c I'm
cnly playing a plough. Dad's gone to Chicago to
— Ah ! Then it was your call I heard just now ! '
She had caught sight of Arnott's Board uniform,
leaped to the switch, and turned it full on.
We were checked, gasping, waist-deep in
current this time, three yards from the verandah.
* We only want to know what's the matter
with Illinois,' said De Forest placidly.
* Then hadn't you better go to Chicago and find
out ? ' she answered. ' There's nothing wrong
here. We own ourselves/
* How can we go anywhere if you won't loose
us ? ' De Forest went on, while Arnott scowled.
Admirals of Fleets are still quite human when
their dignity is touched.
' Stop a minute — you don't know how funny
you look ! ' She put her hands on her hips and
laughed mercilessly.
' Don't worry about that,' said Arnott, and
whistled. A voice answered from the Victor
Pirolo in the meadow.
' Only a single-fuse ground-circuit ! ' Arnott
called. ' Sort it out gently, please.'
We heard the ping of a breaking lamp ; a fuse
blew out somewhere in the verandah roof, frighten-
ing a nest full of birds. The ground-circuit
was open. We stooped and rubbed our tingling
ankles.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 9
1 How rude — how very rude of you ! ' the
maiden cried.
* 'Sorry, but we haven't time to look funny,'
said Arnott. * We've got to go to Chicago ; and
if I were you, young lady, I'd go into the cellars
for the next two hours, and take mother with
me.'
Off he strode, with us at his heels, muttering
indignantly, till the humour of the thing struck and
doubled him up with laughter at the foot of the
gangway ladder.
' The Board hasn't shown what you might call
a fat spark on this occasion,' said De Forest,
wiping his eyes. ' I hope I didn't look as big a
fool as you did, Arnott ! Hullo ! What on earth
is that ? Dad coming home from Chicago ? '
There was a rattle and a rush, and a five-
plough cultivator, blades in air like so many teeth,
trundled itself at us round the edge of the timber,
fuming and sparking furiously.
1 Jump ! ' said Arnott, as we bundled ourselves
through the none-too-wide door. ' Never mind
about shutting it. Up ! '
The Victor Pirolo lifted like a bubble, and the
vicious machine shot just underneath us, clawing
high as it passed.
' There's a nice little spit-kitten for you ! ' said
Arnott, dusting his knees. ' We ask her a civil
question. First she circuits us and then she plays
a cultivator at us ! "
* And then we fly,' said Dragomiroff. ' If I
were forty years more young, I would go back
and kiss her. Ho ! Ho ! '
io A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' I,' said Pirolo, ' would smack her ! My pet
ship has been chased by a dirty plough ; a — how
do you say ? — agricultural implement.'
4 Oh, that is Illinois all over,' said De Forest.
' They don't content themselves with talking about
privacy. They arrange to have it. And now,
where's your alleged fleet, Arnott ? We must
assert ourselves against this wench.'
Arnott pointed to the black heavens.
1 Waiting on — up there,' said he. ' Shall I
give them the whole installation, sir ? '
1 Oh, I don't think the young lady is quite
worth that,' said De Forest. ' Get over Chicago,
and perhaps we'll see something.'
In a few minutes we were hanging at two
thousand feet over an oblong block of in-
candescence in the centre of the little town.
'That looks like the old City Hall. Yes,
there's Salati's Statue in front of it,' said Takahira.
' But what on earth are they doing to the place ?
I thought they used it for a market nowadays !
Drop a little, please.'
We could hear the sputter and crackle of road-
surfacing machines — the cheap Western type which
fuse stone and rubbish into lava-like ribbed glass
for their rough country roads. Three or four
surfacers worked on each side of a square of ruins.
The brick and stone wreckage crumbled, slid
forward, and presently spread out into white-hot
pools of sticky slag, which the levelling-rods
smoothed more or less flat. Already a third of
the big block had been so treated, and was cooling
to dull red before our astonished eyes.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. u
' It is the Old Market,' said De Forest. ' Well,
there's nothing to prevent Illinois from making a
road through a market. It doesn't interfere with
traffic, that I can see.'
' Hsh ! ' said Arnott, gripping me by the
shoulder. ' Listen ! They're singing. Why on
the earth are they singing ? '
We dropped again till we could see the black
fringe of people at the edge of that glowing
square.
At first they only roared against the roar of the
surfacers and levellers. Then the words came up
clearly — the words of the Forbidden Song that all
men knew, and none let pass their lips — poor Pat
MacDonough's Song, made in the days of the
Crowds and the Plague — every silly word of it
loaded to sparking -point with the Planet's in-
herited memories of horror, panic, fear and cruelty.
And Chicago — innocent, contented little Chicago
— was singing it aloud to the infernal tune that
carried riot, pestilence and lunacy round our
Planet a few generations ago !
' Once there was The People — Terror gave it birth ;
Once there was The People, and it made a hell of earth ! '
(Then the stamp and pause) :
'Earth arose and crushed it. Listen, oh, ye slain !
Once there was The People — it shall never be again ! '
The levellers thrust in savagely against the ruins
as the song renewed itself again, again and again,
louder than the crash of the melting walls.
De Forest frowned.
12 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
'I don't like that,' he said. * They've broken
back to the Old Days ! They'll be killing some-
body soon. I think we'd better divert 5em,
Arnott.'
* Ay, ay, sir.' Arnott's hand went to his cap,
and we heard the hull of the Victor Pirolo ring to
the command : ' Lamps ! Both watches stand
by ! Lamps ! Lamps ! Lamps ! '
4 Keep still ! ' Takahira whispered to me.
* Blinkers, please, quartermaster.'
' It's all right — all right ! ' said Pirolo from
behind, and to my horror slipped over my head
some sort of rubber helmet that locked with a snap.
I could feel thick colloid bosses before my eyes,
but I stood in absolute darkness.
' To save the sight,' he explained, and pushed
me on to the chart-room divan. ' You will see in
a minute.'
As he spoke I became aware of a thin thread of
almost intolerable light, let down from heaven at
an immense distance — one vertical hairsbreadth
of frozen lightning.
' Those are our flanking ships,' said Arnott at
my elbow. ' That one is over Galena. Look
south — that other one's over Keithburg. Vincennes
is behind us, and north yonder is Winthrop Woods.
The Fleet's in position, sir' — this to De Forest.
' As soon as you give the word.'
' Ah no ! No ! ' cried Dragomiroff at my side.
I could feel the old man tremble. ' I do not know
all that you can do, but be kind ! I ask you to be
a little kind to them below ! This is horrible —
horrible ! '
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 13
'When a Woman kills a Chicken,
Dynasties and Empires sicken,'
Takahira quoted. * It is too late to be gentle
now.'
■ Then take off my helmet ! Take off my
helmet ! ' Dragomiroff began hysterically.
Pirolo must have put his arm round him.
* Hush,' he said, ' I am here. It is all right,
Ivan, my dear fellow.'
'I'll just send our little girl in Bureau County
a warning,' said Arnott. ' She don't deserve it,
but we'll allow her a minute or two to take
mamma to the cellar.'
In the utter hush that followed the growling
spark after Arnott had linked up his Service Com-
municator with the invisible Fleet, we heard
MacDonough's Song from the city beneath us
grow fainter as we rose to position. Then
I clapped my hand before my mask lenses, for it
was as though the floor of Heaven had been
riddled and all the inconceivable blaze of suns in
the making was poured through the manholes.
1 You needn't count,' said Arnott. I had had
no thought of such a thing. * There are two
hundred and fifty keels up there, five miles apart.
Full power, please, for another twelve seconds.'
The firmament, as far as eye could reach, stood
on pillars of white fire. One fell on the glowing
square at Chicago, and turned it black.
1 Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Can men be allowed to do
such things ? ' Dragomiroff cried, and fell across
our knees.
1 Glass of water, please,' said Takahira to a
i4 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
helmeted shape that leaped forward. • He is a
little faint.'
The lights switched off, and the darkness
stunned like an avalanche. We could hear
Dragomiroff's teeth on the glass edge.
Pirolo was comforting him.
' All right, all ra-ight,' he repeated. . * Come
and lie down. Come below and take off your
mask. I give you my word, old friend, it is all
right. They are my siege-lights. Little Victor
Pirolo's leetle lights. You know me I I do not
hurt people.'
' Pardon ! ' Dragomiroff moaned. ' I have
never seen Death. I have never seen the Board
take action. Shall we go down and burn them
alive, or is that already done ? '
' Oh, hush,' said Pirolo, and I think he rocked
him in his arms.
' Do we repeat, sir ? ' Arnott asked De Forest.
' Give 'em a minute's break,' De Forest
replied. 'They may need it.'
We waited a minute, and then MacDonough's
Song, broken but defiant, rose from undefeated
Chicago.
' They seem fond of that tune,' said De.
Forest. ' I should let 'em have it, Arnott.'
' Very good, sir,' said Arnott, and felt his way
to the Communicator keys.
No lights broke forth, but the hollow of the
skies made herself the mouth for one note that
touched the raw fibre of the brain. Men hear
such sounds in delirium, advancing like tides from
horizons beyond the ruled foreshores of space.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 15
* That's our pitch-pipe,' said Arnott. 'We
may be a bit ragged. I've never conducted two
hundred and fifty performers before.' He pulled
out the couplers, and struck a full chord on the
Service Communicators.
The beams of light leaped down again, and
danced, solemnly and awfully, a stilt-dance, sweep-
ing thirty or forty miles left and right at each
stiff-legged kick, while the darkness delivered
itself — there is no scale to measure against that
utterance — of the tune to which they kept time.
Certain notes — one learnt to expect them with
terror — cut through one's marrow, but, after
three minutes, thought and emotion passed in
indescribable agony.
We saw, we heard, but I think we were in
some sort swooning. The two hundred and fifty
beams shifted, re-formed, straddled and split,
narrowed, widened, rippled in ribbons, broke into
a thousand white - hot parallel lines, melted and
revolved in interwoven rings like old-fashioned
engine-turning, flung up to the zenith, made as if
to descend and renew the torment, halted at the
last instant, twizzled insanely round the horizon,
and vanished, to bring back for the hundredth
time darkness more shattering than their instantly
renewed light over all Illinois. Then the tune
and lights ceased together, and we heard one
single devastating wail that shook all the horizon
as a rubbed wet finger shakes the rim of a bowl.
' Ah, that is my new siren,' said Pirolo.
* You can break an iceberg in half, if you find
the proper pitch. They will whistle by squadrons
1 6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
now. It is the wind through pierced shutters in
the bows.'
I had collapsed beside Dragomiroff, broken
and snivelling feebly, because I had been delivered
before my time to all the terrors of Judgment
Day, and the Archangels of the Resurrection were
hailing me naked across the Universe to the sound
of the music of the spheres.
Then I saw De Forest smacking Arnott's
helmet with his open hand. The wailing died
down in a long shriek as a black shadow swooped
past us, and returned to her place above the lower
clouds.
' I hate to interrupt a specialist when he's
enjoying himself,' said De Forest. ' But, as a
matter of fact, all Illinois has been asking us to
stop for these last fifteen seconds.'
' What a pity.' Arnott slipped off his mask.
' I wanted you to hear us really hum. Our lower
C can lift street-paving.'
1 It is Hell — Hell ! ' cried Dragomiroff, and
sobbed aloud.
Arnott looked away as he answered :
* It's a few thousand volts ahead of the old
shoot-'em-and-sink-'em game, but I should scarcely
call it that. What shall I tell the Fleet, sir ? '
' Tell 'em we're very pleased and impressed.
I don't think they need wait on any longer. There
isn't a spark left down there.' De Forest pointed.
'They'll be deaf and blind.'
' Oh; I think not, sir. The demonstration
lasted less than ten minutes.'
1 Marvellous ! ' Takahira sighed. f I should
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 17
have said it was half a night. Now, shall we go
down and pick up the pieces ? '
4 But first a small drink,' said Pirolo. ' The
Board must not arrive weeping at its own works.'
' I am an old fool — an old fool ! ' Dragomiroff
began piteously. ' I did not know what would
happen. It is all new to me. We reason with
them in Little Russia.'
Chicago North landing-tower was unlighted,
and Arnott worked his ship into the clips by her
own lights. As soon as these broke out we heard
groanings of horror and appeal from many people
below.
( All right,' shouted Arnott into the darkness.
* We aren't beginning again ! ' We descended
by the stairs, to find ourselves knee-deep in a
grovelling crowd, some crying that they were
blind, others beseeching us not to make any more
noises, but the greater part writhing face down-
ward, their hands or their caps before their eyes.
It was Pirolo who came to our rescue. He
climbed the side of a surfacing-machine, and there,
gesticulating as though they could see, made ora-
tion to those afflicted people of Illinois.
' You stchewpids ! ' he began. ' There is no-
thing to fuss for. Of course, your eyes will smart
and be red to-morrow. You will look as if you
and your wives had drunk too much, but in a little
while you will see again as well as before. I tell
you this, and I — / am Pirolo. Victor Pirolo ! '
The crowd with one accord shuddered, for
many legends attach to Victor Pirolo of Foggia,
deep in the secrets of God.
c
1 8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
• Pirolo ? ' An unsteady voice lifted itself.
'Then tell us was there anything except light in
those lights of yours just now? '
The question was repeated from every corner
of the darkness.
Pirolo laughed.
' No ! ' he thundered. (Why have small men
such large voices ?) ' I give you my word and
the Board's word that there was nothing except
light — just light ! You stchewpids ! Your birth-
rate is too low already as it is. Some day I must
invent something to send it up, but send it down
— never ! '
' Is that true ? — We thought — somebody
said '
One could feel the tension relax all round.
' You too big fools,' Pirolo cried. ' You could
have sent us a call and we would have told you.'
' Send you a call ! ' a deep voice shouted. ' I
wish you had been at our end of the wire.'
' I'm glad I wasn't,' said De Forest. c It was
bad enough from behind the lamps. Never mind !
It's over now. Is there any one here I can talk
business with ? I'm De Forest — for the Board.'
1 You might begin with me, for one — I'm
Mayor,' the bass voice replied.
A big man rose unsteadily from the street, and
staggered towards us where we sat on the broad
turf-edging, in front of the garden fences.
' I ought to be the first on my feet. Am I ? '
said he.
' Yes,' said De Forest, and steadied him as he
dropped down beside us.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 19
' Hello, Andy. Is that you? ' a voice called.
' Excuse me,' said the Mayor ; f that sounds
like my Chief of Police, Bluthner ! '
' Bluthner it is ; and here's Mulligan and
Keefe — on their feet.'
1 Bring 'em up please, Blut. We're supposed
to be the Four in charge of this hamlet. What
we says, goes. And, De Forest, what do you say ? '
' Nothing — yet,' De Forest answered, as we
made room for the panting, reeling men. 'Touve
cut out of system. Well ? '
1 Tell the steward to send down drinks, please,'
Arnott whispered to an orderly at his side.
' Good ! ' said the Mayor, smacking his dry
lips. ' Now I suppose we can take it, De Forest,
that henceforward the Board will administer us
direct ? '
' Not if the Board can avoid it,' De Forest
laughed. ' The A. B.C. is responsible for the
planetary traffic only.'
* And all that that implies? The big Four
who ran Chicago chanted their Magna Charta like
children at school.
1 Well, get on,' said De Forest wearily. 'What
is your silly trouble anyway ? '
' Too much dam' Democracy/ said the Mayor,
laying his hand on De Forest's knee.
'So? I thought Illinois had had her dose of that.'
' She has. That's why. Blut, what did you do
with our prisoners last night ? '
' Locked 'em in the water-tower to prevent
the women killing 'em,' the Chief of Police replied.
1 I'm too blind to move just yet, but '
20 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Arnott, send some of your people, please,
and fetch 'em along,' said De Forest.
'They're triple- circuited,' the Mayor called.
' You'll have to blow out three fuses.' He
turned to De Forest, his large outline just visible
in the paling darkness. ' I hate to throw any
more work on the Board. I'm an administrator
myself, but we've had a little fuss with our
Serviles. What ? In a big city there's bound
to be a few men and women who can't live
without listening to themselves, and who prefer
drinking out of pipes they don't own both
ends of. They inhabit flats and hotels all the
year round. They say it saves 'em trouble.
Anyway, it gives 'em more time to make trouble
for their neighbours. We call 'em Serviles locally.
And they are apt to be tuberculous.'
' Just so ! ' said the man called Mulligan.
' Transportation is Civilisation. Democracy is Dis-
ease. I've proved it by the blood-test, every time.'
' Mulligan's our Health Officer, and a one-
idea man,' said the Mayor, laughing. ' But it's
true that most Serviles haven't much control.
They will talk ; and when people take to talking
as a business, anything may arrive — mayn't it,
De Forest ? '
' Anything — except the facts of the case,' said
De Forest, laughing.
' I'll give you those in a minute,' said the
Mayor. * Our Serviles got to talking — first in
their houses and then on the streets, telling men
and women how to manage their own affairs.
(You can't teach a Servile not to finger his
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 21
neighbour's soul.) That's invasion of privacy, of
course, but in Chicago we'll suffer anything sooner
than make crowds. Nobody took much notice,
and so I let 'em alone. My fault ! I was warned
there would be trouble, but there hasn't been a
crowd or murder in Illinois for nineteen years.'
1 Twenty-two,' said his Chief of Police.
1 Likely. Anyway, we'd forgot such things.
So, from talking in the houses and on the streets,
our Serviles go to calling a meeting at the Old
Market yonder.' He nodded across the square
where the wrecked buildings heaved up grey in
the dawn-glimmer behind the square-cased statue
of The Negro in Flames. ' There's nothing to
prevent any one calling meetings except that it's
against human nature to stand in a crowd, besides
being bad for the health. I ought to have known
by the way our men and women attended that
first meeting that trouble was brewing. There
were as many as a thousand in the market-place,
touching each other. Touching ! Then the
Serviles turned in all tongue-switches and talked,
and we •'
* What did they talk about ? ' said Takahira.
1 First, how badly things were managed in the
city. That pleased us Four — we were on the
platform — because we hoped to catch one or two
good men for City work. You know how rare
executive capacity is. Even if we didn't it's — it's
refreshing to find any one interested enough in our
job to damn our eyes. You don't know what it
means to work, year in, year out, without a spark
of difference with a living soul.*
22 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Oh, don't we ! ' said De Forest. ' There are
times on the Board when we'd give our positions
if any one would kick us out and take hold of
things themselves.'
* But they won't,' said the Mayor ruefully.
' I assure you, sir, we Four have done things in
Chicago, in the hope of rousing people, that would
have discredited Nero. But what do they say ?
" Very good, Andy. Have it your own way.
Anything's better than a crowd. I'll go back to
my land." You can't do anything with folk who
can go where they please, and don't want anything
on God's earth except their own way. There isn't
a kick or a kicker left on the Planet.'
'Then I suppose that little shed yonder fell
down by itself ? ' said De Forest. We could see
the bare and still smoking ruins, and hear the slag-
pools crackle as they hardened and set.
' Oh, that's only amusement. 'Tell you later.
As I was saying, our Serviles held the meeting,
and pretty soon we had to ground -circuit the
platform to save 'em from being killed. And
that didn't make our people any more pacific.'
' How d'you mean ? ' I ventured to ask.
1 If you've ever been ground-circuited,' said
the Mayor, ' you'll know it don't improve any
man's temper to be held up straining against
nothing. No, sir ! Eight or nine hundred folk
kept pawing and buzzing like flies in treacle for
two hours, while a pack of perfectly safe Serviles
invades their mental and spiritual privacy, may be
amusing to watch, but they are not pleasant to
handle afterwards.'
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 23
Pirolo chuckled.
1 Our folk own themselves. They were of
opinion things were going too far and too fiery.
I warned the Serviles ; but they're born house-
dwellers. Unless a fact hits 'em on the head,
they cannot see it. Would you believe me, they
went on to talk of what they called " popular
government " ? They did ! They wanted us to
go back to the old Voodoo-business of voting
with papers and wooden boxes, and word-drunk
people and printed formulas, and news-sheets !
They said they practised it among themselves
about what they'd have to eat in their flats and
hotels. Yes, sir! They stood up behind Bluthner's
doubled ground-circuits, and they said that, in
this present year of grace, to self-owning men and
women, on that very spot ! Then they finished '
— he lowered his voice cautiously — ' by talking
about "The People." And then Bluthner he
had to sit up all night in charge of the circuits
because he couldn't trust his men to keep 'em
shut.'
* It was trying 'em too high,' the Chief of Police
broke in. ' But we couldn't hold the crowd ground-
circuited for ever. I gathered in all the Serviles
on charge of crowd-making, and put 'em in the
water-tower, and then I let things cut loose. I
had to ! The District lit like a sparked gas-tank ! '
' The news was out over seven degrees of
country,' the Mayor continued; 'and when once
it's a question of invasion of privacy, good-bye to
right and reason in Illinois ! They began turning
out traffic-lights and locking up landing-towers
24 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
on Thursday night. Friday, they stopped all
traffic and asked for the Board to take over.
Then they wanted to clean Chicago off the side
of the Lake and rebuild elsewhere — just for a
souvenir of " The People " that the Serviles talked
about. I suggested that they should slag the
Old Market where the meeting was held, while I
turned in a call to you all on the Board. That
kept 'em quiet till you came along. And — and
now you can take hold of the situation.'
' 'Any chance of their quieting down ? ' De
Forest asked.
* You can try/ said the Mayor.
De Forest raised his voice in the face of the
reviving crowd that had edged in towards us.
Day was come.
* Don't you think this business can be
arranged ? ' he began. But there was a roar of
angry voices :
' We've finished with Crowds ! We aren't
going back to the Old Days ! Take us over !
Take the Serviles away ! Administer direct or
we'll kill 'em ! Down with The People ! '
An attempt was made to begin MacDonough's
Song. It got no further than the first line, for
the Victor Pirolo sent down a warning drone on
one stopped horn. A wrecked side-wall of the
Old Market tottered and fell inwards on the slag-
pools. None spoke or moved till the last of the
dust had settled down again, turning the steel
case of Salati's Statue ashy grey.
'You see you'll just have to take us over,'
the Mayor whispered.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 25
De Forest shrugged his shoulders.
c You talk as if executive capacity could be
snatched out of the air like so much horse-power.
Can't you manage yourselves on any terms ? ' he
said.
' We can, if you say so. It will only cost
those few lives to begin with.'
The Mayor pointed across the square, where
Arnott's men guided a stumbling group of ten or
twelve men and women to the lake front and
halted them under the Statue.
* Now I think,' said Takahira under his breath,
4 there will be trouble.'
The mass in front of us growled like beasts.
At that moment the sun rose clear, and revealed
the blinking assembly to itself. As soon as it
realised that it was a crowd we saw the shiver of
horror and mutual repulsion shoot across it pre-
cisely as the steely flaws shot across the lake
outside. Nothing was said, and, being half blind,
of course it moved slowly. Yet in less than
fifteen minutes most of that vast multitude — three
thousand at the lowest count — melted away like
frost on south eaves. The remnant stretched
themselves on the grass, where a crowd feels and
looks less like a crowd.
' These mean business,' the Mayor whispered
to Takahira. * There are a goodish few women
there who've borne children. I don't like it.'
The morning draught off the lake stirred the
trees round us with promise of a hot day ; the
sun reflected itself dazzlingly on the canister-
shaped covering of Salati's Statue ; cocks crew in
26 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
the gardens, and we could hear gate-latches click-
ing in the distance as people stumblingly resought
their homes.
' I'm afraid there won't be any morning
deliveries,' said De Forest. ' We rather upset
things in the country last night.'
' That makes no odds,' the Mayor returned.
' We're all provisioned for six months. We take
no chances.'
Nor, when you come to think of it, does any
one else. It must be three-quarters of a genera-
tion since any house or city faced a food shortage.
Yet is there house or city on the Planet to-day
that has not half a year's provisions laid in ? We
are like the shipwrecked seamen in the old books,
who, having once nearly starved to death, ever
afterwards hide away bits of food and biscuit.
Truly we trust no Crowds, nor system based on
Crowds !
De Forest waited till the last footstep had died
away. Meantime the prisoners at the base of the
Statue shuffled, posed and fidgeted, with the
shamelessness of quite little children. None of
them were more than six feet high, and many of
them were as grey-haired as the ravaged, harassed
heads of old pictures. They huddled together in
actual touch, while the crowd, spaced at large
intervals, looked at them with congested eyes.
Suddenly a man among them began to talk.
The Mayor had not in the least exaggerated. It
appeared that our Planet lay sunk in slavery
beneath the heel of the Aerial Board of Control.
The orator urged us to arise in our might, burst
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 27
our prison doors and break our fetters (all his
metaphors, by the way, were of the most medi-
aeval). Next he demanded that every matter of
daily life, including most of the physical functions,
should be submitted for decision at any time of
the week, month, or year to, I gathered, anybody
who happened to be passing by or residing within
a certain radius, and that everybody should forth-
with abandon his concerns to settle the matter,
first by crowd-making, next by talking to the
crowds made, and lastly by describing crosses on
pieces of paper, which rubbish should later be
counted with certain mystic ceremonies and oaths.
Out of this amazing play, he assured us, would
automatically arise a higher, nobler, and kinder
world, based — he demonstrated this with the
awful lucidity of the insane — based on the sanctity
of the Crowd and the villainy of the single person.
In conclusion, he called loudly upon God to
testify to his personal merits and integrity. When
the flow ceased, I turned bewildered to Takahira,
who was nodding solemnly.
' Quite correct,' said he. '■ It is all in the old
books. He has left nothing out, not even the
war-talk.'
1 But I don't see how this stuff can upset a
child, much less a district,' I replied.
1 Ah, you are too young,' said Dragomiroff.
1 For another thing, you are not a mamma. Please
look at the mammas.'
Ten or fifteen women who remained had
separated themselves from the silent men, and
were drawing in towards the prisoners. It
28 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
reminded one of the stealthy encircling, before
the rush in at the quarry, of wolves round musk-
oxen in the North. The prisoners saw, and drew
together more closely. The Mayor covered his
face with his hands for an instant. De Forest,
bareheaded, stepped forward between the prisoners
and the slowly, stiffly moving line.
* That's all very interesting,' he said to the
dry-lipped orator. 'But the point seems that
you've been making crowds and invading privacy.'
A woman stepped forward, and would have
spoken, but there was a quick assenting murmur
from the men, who realised that De Forest was
trying to pull the situation down to ground-line.
' Yes ! Yes ! ' they cried. ' We cut out
because they made crowds and invaded privacy !
Stick to that ! Keep on that switch ! Lift the
Serviles out of this ! The Board's in charge !
Hsh!'
' Yes, the Board's in charge,' said De Forest.
' I'll take formal evidence of crowd-making if you
like, but the Members of the Board can testify to
it. Will that do ? '
The women had closed in another pace, with
hands that clenched and unclenched at their sides.
' Good ! Good enough ! ' the men cried.
1 We're content. Only take them away quickly.'
* Come along up ! ' said De Forest to the
captives. ' Breakfast is quite ready.'
It appeared, however, that they did not wish
to go. They intended to remain in Chicago and
make crowds. They pointed out that De Forest's
proposal was gross invasion of privacy.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 29
' My dear fellow,' said Pirolo to the most
voluble of the leaders, * you hurry, or your crowd
that can't be wrong will kill you ! '
' But that would be murder,' answered the
believer in crowds ; and there was a roar of
laughter from all sides that seemed to show the
crisis had broken.
A woman stepped forward from the line of
women, laughing, I protest, as merrily as any of
the company. One hand, of course, shaded her
eyes, the other was at her throat.
' Oh, they needn't be afraid of being killed ! '
she called.
' Not in the least,' said De Forest. ' But don't
you think that, now the Board's in charge, you
might go home while we get these people away ? '
' I shall be home long before that. It — it has
been rather a trying day.'
She stood up to her full height, dwarfing even
De Forest's six-foot-eight, and smiled, with eyes
closed against the fierce light.
1 Yes, rather,' said De Forest. ' I'm afraid you
feel the glare a little. We'll have the ship down.'
He motioned to the Pirolo to drop between us
and the sun, and at the same time to loop-circuit
the prisoners, who were a trifle unsteady. We
saw them stiffen to the current where they stood.
The woman's voice went on, sweet and deep and
unshaken :
' I don't suppose you men realise how much
this — this sort of thing means to a woman. I've
borne three. We women don't want our children
given to Crowds. It must be an inherited instinct.
30 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Crowds make trouble. They bring back the Old
Days. Hate, fear, blackmail, publicity, " The
People" — That! That! That ! * She pointed to
the Statue, and the crowd growled once more.
' Yes, if they are allowed to go on,' said De
Forest. « But this little affair '
' It means so much to us women that this — this
little affair should never happen again. Of course,
never's a big word, but one feels so strongly that
it is important to stop crowds at the very beginning.
Those creatures ' — she pointed with her left hand
at the prisoners swaying like seaweed in a tideway
as the circuit pulled them — ' those people have
friends and wives and children in the city and else-
where. One doesn't want anything done to them,
you know. It's terrible to force a human being
out of fifty or sixty years of good life. I'm only
forty myself. / know. But, at the same time,
one feels that an example should be made, because
no price is too heavy to pay if — if these people and
all that they imply can be put an end to. Do you
quite understand, or would you be kind enough to
tell your men to take the casing off the Statue ?
It's worth looking at.'
* I understand perfectly. But I don't think
anybody here wants to see the Statue on an empty
stomach. Excuse me one moment.' De Forest
called up to the ship, * A flying loop ready on the
port side, if you please.' Then to the woman he
said with some crispness, * You might leave us a
little discretion in the matter.'
' Oh, of course. Thank you for being so patient.
I know my arguments are silly, but ' She
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 31
half turned away and went on in a changed voice,
' Perhaps this will help you to decide.'
She threw out her right arm with a knife in it.
Before the blade could be returned to her throat
or her bosom it was twitched from her grip, sparked
as it flew out of the shadow of the ship above, and
fell flashing in the sunshine at the foot of the Statue
fifty yards away. The outflung arm was arrested,
rigid as a bar for an instant, till the releasing cir-
cuit permitted her to bring it slowly to her side.
The other women shrank back silent among
the men.
Pirolo rubbed his hands, and Takahira nodded.
' That was clever of you, De Forest,' said he.
' What a glorious pose ! ' DragomirofF mur-
mured, for the frightened woman was on the edge
of tears.
' Why did you stop me ? I would have done
it ! ' she cried.
' I have no doubt you would,' said De Forest.
* But we can't waste a life like yours on these
people. I hope the arrest didn't sprain your wrist ;
it's so hard to regulate a flying loop. But I think
you are quite right about those persons' women
and children. We'll take them all away with us
if you promise not to do anything stupid to
yourself.'
' I promise — I promise.' She controlled herself
with an effort. * But it is so important to us
women. We know what it means ; and I thought
if you saw I was in earnest '
' I saw you were, and you've gained your point.
I shall take all your Serviles away with me at once.
32 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
The Mayor will make lists of their friends and
families in the city and the district, and he'll ship
them after us this afternoon.'
* Sure,' said the Mayor, rising to his feet.
1 Keefe, if you can see, hadn't you better finish
levelling oft the Old Market? It don't look
sightly the way it is now, and we shan't use it for
crowds any more.'
* I think you had better wipe out that Statue as
well, Mr. Mayor,' said De Forest. ' I don't ques-
tion its merits as a work of art, but I believe it's a
shade morbid.'
' Certainly, sir. Oh, Keefe ! Slag the Nigger
before you go on to fuse the Market. I'll get to
the Communicators and tell the District that the
Board is in charge. Are you making any special
appointments, sir ? '
' None. We haven't men to waste on these
backwoods. Carry on as before, but under the
Board. Arnott, run your Serviles aboard, please.
Ground ship and pass them through the bilge-
doors. We'll wait till we've finished with this
work of art.'
The prisoners trailed past him, talking fluently,
but unable to gesticulate in the drag of the current.
Then the surfacers rolled up, two on each side
of the Statue. With one accord the spectators
looked elsewhere, but there was no need. Keefe
turned on fall power, and the thing simply melted
within its case. All I saw was a surge of white-
hot metal pouring over the plinth, a glimpse of
Salati's inscription, 'To the Eternal Memory of
the Justice of the People,' ere the stone base itself
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 32
cracked and powdered into finest lime. The
crowd cheered.
'Thank you,' said De Forest ; 'but we want
our breakfasts, and I expect you do too. Good-bye,
Mr. Mayor ! Delighted to see you at any time,
but I hope I shan't have to, officially, for the next
thirty years. Good-bye, madam. Yes. We're
all given to nerves nowadays. I suffer from
them myself. Good-bye, gentlemen all ! You're
under the tyrannous heel of the Board from this
moment, but if ever you feel like breaking your
fetters you've only to let us know. This is no
treat to us. Good luck ! '
We embarked amid shouts, and did not check
our lift till they had dwindled into whispers.
Then De Forest flung himself on the chartroom
divan and mopped his forehead.
' I don't mind men,' he panted, ' but women
are the devil ! '
' Still the devil,' said Pirolo cheerfully. ' That
one would have suicided.'
' I know it. That was why I signalled for the
flying loop to be clapped on her. I owe you an
apology for that, Arnott. I hadn't time to catch
your eye, and you were busy with our caitiffs.
By the way, who actually answered my signal?
It was a smart piece of work.'
' Ilroy,' said Arnott ; ' but he overloaded the
wave. It may be pretty gallery-work to knock
a knife out of a lady's hand, but didn't you
notice how she rubbed 'em ? He scotched her
fingers. Slovenly, I call it.'
' Far be it from me to interfere with Fleet
34 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
discipline, but don't be too hard on the boy. If
that woman had killed herself they would have
killed every Servile and everything related to a
Servile throughout the district by nightfall.'
' That was what she was playing for,' Takahira
said. ' And with our Fleet gone we could have
done nothing to hold them.'
* I may be ass enough to walk into a ground-
circuit,' said Arnott, ' but I don't dismiss my
Fleet till I'm reasonably sure that trouble is over.
They're in position still, and I intend to keep
'em there till the Serviles are shipped out of the
district. That last little crowd meant murder,
my friends.'
' Nerves ! All nerves ! ' said Pirolo. ' You
cannot argue with agoraphobia.'
* And it is not as if they had seen much dead
— or is it ? ' said Takahira.
' In all my ninety years I have never seen death.'
Dragomiroff spoke as one who would excuse him-
self. 'Perhaps that was why — last night '
Then it came out as we sat over breakfast, that,
with the exception of Arnott and Pirolo, none of
us had ever seen a corpse, or knew in what
manner the spirit passes.
' We're a nice lot to flap about governing the
Planet,' De Forest laughed. ' I confess, now it's
all over, that my main fear was I mightn't be able
to pull it off without losing a life.'
' I thought of that too,' said Arnott ; ' but
there's no death reported, and I've inquired
everywhere. What are we supposed to do with
our passengers ? I've fed 'em.'
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 3$
* We're between two switches,' De Forest
drawled. ' If we drop them in any place that
isn't under the Board, the natives will make their
presence an excuse for cutting out, same as Illinois
did, and forcing the Board to take over. If we
drop them in any place under the Board's control
they'll be killed as soon as our backs are turned.'
' If you say so,' said Pirolo thoughtfully, ' I
can guarantee that they will become extinct in
process of time, quite happily. What is their
birth-rate now ? '
* Go down and ask 'em,' said De Forest.
' I think they might become nervous and tear
me to bits,' the philosopher of Foggia replied.
< Not really? Well?'
' Open the bilge-doors,' said Takahira with a
downward jerk of the thumb.
' Scarcely — after all the trouble we've taken to
save 'em,' said De Forest.
' Try London,' Arnott suggested. ' You could
turn Satan himself loose there, and they'd only
ask him to dinner.'
1 Good man ! You've given me an idea.
Vincent ! Oh, Vincent ! ' He threw the General
Communicator open so that we could all hear,
and in a few minutes the chartroom filled with the
rich, fruity voice of Leopold Vincent, who has
purveyed all London her choicest amusements
for the last thirty years. We answered with
expectant grins, as though we were actually in
the stalls of, say, the Combination on a first night.
' We've picked up something in your line,'
De Forest began.
36 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
• That's good, dear man. If it's old enough.
There's nothing to beat the old things for business
purposes. Have you seen London, Chatham, and
Dover at Earl's Court ? No ? 1 thought I
missed you there. Im-mense ! I've had the real
steam locomotive engines built from the old
designs and the iron rails cast specially by hand.
Cloth cushions in the carriages, too ! Im-mense !
And paper railway tickets. And Polly Milton.'
' Polly Milton back again ! ' said Arnott
rapturously. ' Book me two stalls for to-morrow
night. What's she singing now, bless her ? '
' The old songs. Nothing comes up to the
old touch. Listen to this, dear men.' Vincent
carolled with flourishes :
Oh, cruel lamps of London,
If tears your light could drown,
Your victims' eyes would weep them,
Oh, lights of London Town !
* Then they weep.'
' You see ? ' Pirolo waved his hands at us.
' The old world always weeped when it saw crowds
together. It did not know why, but it weeped.
We know why, but we do not weep, except when
we pay to be made to by fat, wicked old Vincent.'
' Old, yourself ! ' Vincent laughed. ' I'm a
public benefactor, I keep the world soft and
united.'
' And I'm De Forest of the Board,' said De
Forest acidly, * trying to get a little business done.
As I was saying, I've picked up a few people in
Chicago.'
' I cut out. Chicago is— — -'
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 37
' Do listen ! They're perfectly unique.'
1 Do they build nouses of baked mudblocks
while you wait — eh? That's an old contact.'
4 They're an untouched primitive community,
with all the old ideas.'
' Sewing-machines and maypole-dances ? Cook-
ing on coal-gas stoves, lighting pipes with matches,
and driving horses ? Gerolstein tried that last
year. An absolute blow-out ! '
De Forest plugged him wrathfully, and poured
out the story of our doings for the last twenty-
four hours on the top-note.
1 And they do it all in public,' he concluded.
' You can't stop 'em. The more public, the
better they are pleased. They'll talk for hours —
like you ! Now you can come in again ! '
' Do you really mean they know how to vote ? '
said Vincent. ' Can they act it ? '
1 Act ? It's their life to 'em ! And you
never saw such faces ! Scarred like volcanoes.
Envy, hatred, and malice in plain sight. Wonder-
fully flexible voices. They weep, too.'
1 Aloud ? In public ? '
c I guarantee. Not a spark of shame or
reticence in the entire installation. It's the chance
of your career."
* D'you say you've brought their voting props
along — those papers and ballot-box things ? '
' No, confound you ! I'm not a luggage-lifter.
Apply direct to the Mayor of Chicago. He'll
forward you everything. Well ?
• Wait a minute. Did Chicago want to kill
'em ? That 'ud look well on the Communicators.'
3 8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Yes ! They were only rescued with difficulty
from a howling mob — if you know what
that is.'
' But I don't,' answered the Great Vincent
simply.
* Well then, they'll tell you themselves. They
can make speeches hours long.'
' How many are there ? '
' By the time we ship 'em all over they'll be
perhaps a hundred, counting children. An old
world in miniature. Can't you see it ? '
* M-yes ; but I've got to pay for it if it's a
blow-out, dear man.'
' They can sing the old war songs in the streets.
They can get word-drunk, and make crowds, and
invade privacy in the genuine old-fashioned way ;
and they'll do the voting trick as often as you ask
'em a question.'
' Too good ! ' said Vincent.
' You unbelieving Jew ! I've got a dozen
head aboard here. I'll put you through direct.
Sample 'em yourself.'
He lifted the switch and we listened. Our
passengers on the lower deck at once, but not
less than five at a time, explained themselves to
Vincent. They had been taken from the bosom
of their families, stripped of their possessions,
given food without finger-bowls, and cast into
captivity in a noisome dungeon.
' But look here,' said Arnott aghast ; ' they're
saying what isn't true. My lower deck isn't
noisome, and I saw to the finger-bowls myself.'
' My people talk like that sometimes in Little
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 39
Russia,' said Dragomiroff. ' We reason with
them. We never kill. No ! '
' But it's not true,' Arnott insisted. * What
can you do with people who don't tell facts ?
They're mad ! '
' Hsh ! ' said Pirolo, his hand to his ear. ' It
is such a little time since all the Planet told lies.'
We heard Vincent silkily sympathetic. Would
they, he asked, repeat their assertions in public —
before a vast public ? Only let Vincent give them
a chance, and the Planet, they vowed, should ring
with their wrongs. Their aim in life — two women
and a man explained it together — was to reform
the world. Oddly enough, this also had been
Vincent's life-dream. He offered them an arena
in which to explain, and by their living example
to raise the Planet to loftier levels. He was
eloquent on the moral uplift of a simple, old-
world life presented in its entirety to a deboshed
civilisation.
Could they — would they — for three months
certain, devote themselves under his auspices, as
missionaries, to the elevation of mankind at a place
called Earl's Court, which he said, with some
truth, was one of the intellectual centres of the
Planet ? They thanked him, and demanded (we
could hear his chuckle of delight) time to discuss
and to vote on the matter. The vote, solemnly
managed by counting heads — one head, one vote
— was favourable. His offer, therefore, was
accepted, and they moved a vote of thanks to him
in two speeches — one by what they called the
'proposer' and the other by the 'seconder.'
4o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Vincent threw over to us, his voice shaking
with gratitude :
* I've got 'em ! Did you hear those speeches ?
That's Nature, dear men. Art can't teach that.
And they voted as easily as lying. I've never
had a troupe of natural liars before. Bless you,
dear men ! Remember, you're on my free lists
for ever, anywhere — all of you. Oh, Gerolstein
will be sick — sick ! '
* Then you think they'll do ? ' said De
Forest.
1 Do ? The Little Village'll go crazy ! I'll
knock up a series of old-world plays for 'em.
Their voices will make you laugh and cry. My
God, dear men, where do you suppose they picked
up all their misery from, on this sweet earth ? I'll
have a pageant of the world's beginnings, and
Mosenthal shall do the music. I'll '
* Go and knock up a village for 'em by to-
night. We'll meet you at No. 15 West Landing
Tower,' said De Forest. ' Remember the rest
will be coming along to-morrow.'
* Let 'em all come ! ' said Vincent. ' You don't
know how hard it is nowadays even for me, to
find something that really gets under the public's
damned iridium-plated hide. But I've got it at
last. Good-bye ! '
' Well,' said De Forest when we had finished
laughing, * if any one understood corruption in
London I might have played off Vincent against
Gerolstein, and sold my captives at enormous
prices. As it is, I shall have to be their legal
adviser to-night when the contracts are signed.
AS EASY AS A.B.C. 41
And they won't exactly press any commission on
me, either.'
* Meantime,' said Takahira, ' we cannot, of
course, confine members of Leopold Vincent's
last - engaged company. Chairs for the ladies,
please, Arnott.'
' Then I go to bed,' said De Forest. c I can't
face any more women ! ' And he vanished.
When our passengers were released and given
another meal (finger-bowls came first this time)
they told us what they thought of us and the
Board ; and, like Vincent, we all marvelled how
they had contrived to extract and secrete so much
bitter poison and unrest out of the good life God
gives us. They raged, they stormed, they palpitated,
flushed and exhausted their poor, torn nerves,
panted themselves into silence, and renewed the
senseless, shameless attacks.
' But can't you understand,' said Pirolo patheti-
cally to a shrieking woman, ' that if we'd left you
in Chicago you'd have been killed ? '
' No, we shouldn't. You were bound to save
us from being murdered.'
' Then we should have had to kill a lot of
other people.'
' That doesn't matter. We were preaching
the Truth. You can't stop us. We shall go on
preaching in London ; and then you'll see ! '
' You can see now,' said Pirolo, and opened a
lower shutter.
We were closing on the Little Village, with
her three million people spread out at ease inside
her ring of girdling Main-Traffic lights — those
42 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
eight fixed beams at Chatham, Tonbridge, Redhill,
Dorking, Woking, St. Albans, Chipping Ongar,
and Southend.
Leopold Vincent's new company looked, with
small pale faces, at the silence, the size, and the
separated houses.
Then some began to weep aloud, shamelessly —
always without shame.
MACDONOUGH'S SONG
Whether the State can loose and bind
In Heaven as well as on Earth :
If it be wiser to kill mankind
Before or after the birth —
These are matters of high concern
Where State-kept schoolmen are ;
But Holy State (we have lived to learn)
Endeth in Holy War.
Whether The People be led by the Lord,
Or lured by the loudest throat :
If it be quicker to die by the sword
Or cheaper to die by vote —
These are the things we have dealt with once,
(And they will not rise from their grave)
For Holy People, however it runs,
Endeth in wholly Slave.
Whatsoever, for any cause,
Seeketh to take or give,
Power above or beyond the Laws,
Suffer it not to live !
43
4.4 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Holy State or Holy King —
Or Holy People's Will-
Have no truck with the senseless thing.
Order the guns and kill !
Saying — after — me : —
Once there was The People — Terror gave it birth ;
Once there was The People and it made a Hell of
Earth.
Earth arose and crushed it. Listen, O ye slain !
Once there was The People — it shall never be again !
Friendly Brook
(March 19 14)
The valley was so choked with fog that one could
scarcely see a cow's length across a field. Every
blade, twig, bracken-frond, and hoof-print carried
water, and the air was filled with the noise of
rushing ditches and field-drains, all delivering to
the brook below. A week's November rain on
water-logged land had gorged her to full flood,
and she proclaimed it aloud.
Two men in sackcloth aprons were considering
an untrimmed hedge that ran down the hillside
and disappeared into mist beside those roarings.
They stood back and took stock of the neglected
growth, tapped an elbow of hedge-oak here, a
mossed beech -stub there, swayed a stooled ash
back and forth, and looked at each other.
1 1 reckon she's about two rod thick,' said
Jabez the younger, ' an' she hasn't felt iron since —
when has she, Jesse ? '
1 Call it twenty-five year, Jabez, an' you won't
be far out.'
' Umm ! ' Jabez rubbed his wet handbill on
45
46 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
his wetter coat-sleeve. ' She ain't a hedge. She's
all manner o' trees. We'll just about have to '
He paused, as professional etiquette required,
' Just about have to side her up an' see what
she'll bear. But hadn't we best ? ' Jesse paused
in his turn, both men being artists and equals.
' Get some kind o' line to go by.' Jabez
ranged up and down till he found a thinner place,
and with clean snicks of the handbill revealed the
original face of the fence. Jesse took over the
dripping stufr as it fell forward, and, with a
grasp and a kick, made it to lie orderly on the
bank till it should be faggoted.
By noon a length of unclean jungle had turned
itself into a cattle-proof barrier, tufted here and
there with little plumes of the sacred holly which
no woodman touches without orders.
1 Now we've a witness-board to go by ! ' said
Jesse at last.
' She won't be as easy as this all along,' Jabez
answered. ' She'll need plenty stakes and binders
when we come to the brook.'
1 Well, ain't we plenty ? ' Jesse pointed to the
ragged perspective ahead of them that plunged
downhill into the fog. ' I lay there's a cord an' a
half o' firewood, let alone faggots, 'fore we get any-
wheres anigh the brook.'
' The brook's got up a piece since morning,'
said Jabez. ' Sounds like's if she was over
Wickenden's door-stones.'
Jesse listened, too. There was a growl in the
brook's roar as though she worried something
hard.
FRIENDLY BROOK 47
* Yes. She's over Wickenden's door-stones,'
he replied. ' Now she'll flood acrost Alder Bay
an' that'll ease her.'
' She v/on't ease Jim Wickenden's hay none if
she do,' Jabez grunted. ' I told Jim he'd set
that liddle hay-stack o' his too low down in the
medder. I told him so when he was drawin' the
bottom for it.'
' I told him so, too,' said Jesse. ' I told him
'fore ever you did. I told him when the County
Council tarred the roads up along.' He pointed
up-hill, where unseen automobiles and road-
engines droned past continually. ' A tarred road,
she shoots every drop o' water into a valley same's
a slate roof. 'Tisn't as 'twas in the old days,
when the waters soaked in and soaked out in the
way o' nature. It rooshes off they tarred roads
all of a lump, and naturally every drop is bound
to descend into the valley. And there's tar roads
both two sides this valley for ten mile. That's
what I told Jim Wickenden when they tarred the
roads last year. But he's a valley-man. He
don't hardly ever journey up-hill.'
' What did he say when you told him that ? '
Jabez demanded, with a little change of voice.
' Why ? What did he say to you when you
told him ? ' was the answer.
' What he said to you, I reckon, Jesse.'
' Then, you don't need me to say it over again,
Jabez.'
' Well, let be how 'twill, what was he gettin'
after when he said what he said to me ? ' Jabez
insisted.
48 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
4 / dunno ; unless you tell me what manner o'
words he said to you.'
Jabez drew back from the hedge — all hedges
are nests of treachery and eavesdropping — and
moved to an open cattle-lodge in the centre of
the field.
' No need to go ferretin' around,' said Jesse.
' None can't see us here 'fore we see them.'
' What was Jim Wickenden gettin' at when I
said he'd set his stack too near anigh the brook ? '
Jabez dropped his voice. ' He was in his mind.'
* He ain't never been out of it yet to my
knowledge,' Jesse drawled, and uncorked his tea-
bottle.
' But then Jim says : " I ain't goin' to shift
my stack a yard," he says. " The Brook's been
good friends to me, and if she be minded," he
says, " to take a snatch at my hay, / ain't settin'
out to withstand her." That's what Jim
Wickenden says to me last — last June-end
'twas,' said Jabez.
' Nor he hasn't shifted his stack, neither,' Jesse
replied. ' An' if there's more rain, the brook
she'll shift it for him.*
' No need tell me ! But I want to know what
Jim was gettin' at ? '
Jabez opened his clasp-knife very deliberately ;
Jesse as carefully opened his. They unfolded the
newspapers that wrapped their dinners, coiled away
and pocketed the string that bound the packages,
and sat down on the edge of the lodge manger.
The rain began to fall again through the fog, and
the brook's voice rose.
FRIENDLY BROOK 49
'But I always allowed Mary was his lawful
child, like,' said Jabez, after Jesse had spoken for a
while.
' 'Tain't so. . . . Jim Wickenden's woman
she never made nothing. She come out o' Lewes
with her stockin's round her heels, an' she never
made nor mended aught till she died. He had
to light fire an' get breakfast every mornin' except
Sundays, while she sowed it abed. Then she took
an' died, sixteen, seventeen, year back ; but she
never had no childern.'
1 They was valley-folk,' said Jabez apologeti-
cally. 'I'd no call to go in among 'em, but I
always allowed Mary '
' No. Marv come out o' one o' those Lunnon
Childern Societies. After his woman died, Jim
got his mother back from his sister over to
Peasmarsh, which she'd gone to house with when
Jim married. His mother kept house for Jim
after his woman died. They do say 'twas his
mother led him on toward adoptin' of Mary — to
furnish out the house with a child, like, and to
keep him off of gettin' a noo woman. He mostly
done what his mother contrived. 'Cardenly,
twixt 'em, they asked for a child from one o'
those Lunnon societies — same as it might ha'
been these Barnardo children — an' Mary was
sent down to 'em, in a candle-box, I've heard.'
' Then Mary is chance-born. I never knowed
that,' said Jabez. ' Yet I must ha' heard it some
time or other . . .'
' No. She ain't. 'Twould ha' been better
50 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
for some folk if she had been. She come to Jim
in a candle-box with all the proper papers — lawful
child o' some couple in Lunnon somewheres —
mother dead, father drinkin'. And there was
that Lunnon society's five shillin's a week for her.
Jim's mother she wouldn't despise week-end
money, but I never heard Jim was much of a
muck-grubber. Let be how 'twill, they two
mothered up Mary no bounds, till it looked at
last like they'd forgot she wasn't their own flesh
an' blood. Yes, I reckon they forgot Mary wasn't
their'n by rights.'
' That's no new thing,' said Jabez. ' There's
more'n one or two in this parish wouldn't surrender
back their Bernarders. You ask Mark Copley
an' his woman an' that Bernarder cripple-babe o'
theirs.'
' Maybe they need the five shillin',' Jesse
suggested.
1 It's handy,' said Jabez. ' But the child's
more. " Dada " he says, an' " Mumma " he says,
with his great rollin' head-piece all hurdled up
in that iron collar. He won't live long — his
backbone's rotten, like. But they Copleys do
just about set store by him — five bob or no five
bob.'
' Same way with Jim an' his mother,' Jesse
went on. ' There was talk betwixt 'em after a
few years o' not takin' any more week-end money
for Mary ; but let alone she never passed a farden
in the mire 'thout longin's, Jim didn't care, like,
to push himself forward into the Society's re-
membrance. So naun came of it. The week-end
FRIENDLY BROOK 51
money would ha' made no odds to Jim — not after
his uncle willed him they four cottages at East-
bourne art money in the bank.'
' That was true, too, then ? I heard something
in a scadderin' word-o'-mouth way,' said Jabez.
* I'll answer for the house property, because
Jim he reequested my signed name at the foot o'
some papers concernin' it. Regardin' the money
in the bank, he nature-ally wouldn't like such
things talked about all round the parish, so he
took strangers for witnesses.'
* Then 'twill make Mary worth seekin' after ? '
' She'll need it. Her Maker ain't done much
for her outside nor yet in.'
* That ain't no odds.' Jabez shook his head
till the water showered off his hat-brim. ' If
Mary has money, she'll be wed before any
likely pore maid. She's cause to be grateful to
Jim.'
* She hides it middlin' close, then,' said Jesse.
* It don't sometimes look to me as if Mary has
her natural rightful feelin's. She don't put on
an apron o' Mondays 'thout being druv to it —
in the kitchen or the hen-house. She's studyin'
to be a school-teacher. She'll make a beauty ! I
never knowed her show any sort o' kindness to
nobody — not even when Jim's mother was took
dumb. No ! 'Twadn't no stroke. It stifled
the old lady in the throat here. First she couldn't
shape her words no shape ; then she clucked, like,
an' lastly she couldn't more than suck down spoon-
meat an' hold her peace. Jim took her to Doctor
Harding, an' Harding he bundled her off" to
52 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Brighton Hospital on a ticket, but they couldn't
make no stay to her afflictions there ; and she was
bundled off to Lunnon, an' they lit a great old
lamp inside her, and Jim told me they couldn't
make out nothing in no sort there ; and, along
o' one thing an' another, an' all their spyin's and
pryin's, she come back a hem sight worse than
when she started. Jim said he'd have no more
hospitalizin', so he give her a slate, which she tied
to her waist-string, and what she was minded to
say she writ on it.'
' Now, I never knowed that ! But they're
valley-folk,' Jabez repeated.
' 'Twadn't particular noticeable, for she wasn't
a talkin' woman any time o' her days. Mary
had all three's tongue. . . . Well, then, two years
this summer, come what I'm tellin' you. Mary's
Lunnon father, which they'd put clean out o'
their minds, arrived down from Lunnon with the
law on his side, sayin' he'd take his daughter
back to Lunnon, after all. I was working for
Mus' Dockett at Pounds Farm that summer, but
I was obligin' Jim that evenin' muckin' out his pig-
pen. I seed a stranger come traipsin' over the
bridge agin' Wickenden's door-stones. 'Twadn't
the new County Council bridge with the handrail.
They hadn't given it in for a public right o' way
then. 'Twas just a bit o' lathy old plank which
Jim had throwed acrost the brook for his own
conveniences. The man wasn't drunk — only a
little concerned in liquor, like — an' his back was
a mask where he'd slipped in the muck comin'
along. He went up the bricks past Jim's mother,
FRIENDLY BROOK S3
which was feedin' the ducks, an' set himself down
at the table inside — Jim was just changin' his
socks — an' the man let Jim know all his rights
and aims regardin' Mary. Then there just about
was a hurly-bulloo? Jim's fust mind was to
pitch him forth, but he'd done that once in his
young days, and got six months up to Lewes jail
along o' the man fallin' on his head. So he
swallowed his spittle an' let him talk. The law
about Mary was on the man's side from fust to
last, for he showed us all the papers. Then Mary
come downstairs — she'd been studyin' for an
examination — an' the man tells her who he was,
an' she says he had ought to have took proper
care of his own flesh and blood while he had it by
him, an' not to think he could ree-claim it when it
suited. He says somethin' or other, but she looks
him up an' down, front an' backwent, an' she just
tongues him scadderin' out o' doors, and he went
away stuffin' all the papers back into his hat,
talkin' most abusefully. Then she come back an'
freed her mind against Jim an' his mother for not
havin' warned her of her upbringin's, which it
come out she hadn't ever been told. They didn't
say naun to her. They never did. Td ha'
packed her off with any man that would ha' took
her — an' God's pity on him ! '
' Umm ! ' said Jabez, and sucked his pipe.
1 So then, that was the beginnin'. The man
come back again next week or so, an' he catched
Jim alone, 'thout his mother this time, an' he fair
beazled him with his papers an' his talk — for the
law was on his side — till Jim went down into his
54 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
money-purse an' give him ten shillings hush-money
— he told me — to withdraw away for a bit an'
leave Mary with 'em.'
' But that's no way to get rid o' man or
woman,' Jabez said.
1 No more 'tis. I told Jim so. " What can I
do?" Jim says. "The law's with the man. I
walk about daytimes thinkin' o' it till I sweats my
underclothes wringin', an' I lie abed nights thinkin'
o' it till I sweats my sheets all of a sop. 'Tisn't
as if I was a young man," he says, " nor yet as if
I was a pore man. Maybe he'll drink hisself to
death." I e'en a'most told him outright what
foolishness he was enterin' into, but he knowed it
— -he knowed it — because he said next time the
man come 'twould be fifteen shillin's. An' next
time 'twas. Just fifteen shillin's ! '
1 An' was the man her father ? ' asked Jabez.
' He had the proofs an' the papers. Jim
showed me what that Lunnon Childern's Society
had answered when Mary writ up to 'em an' taxed
'em with it. I lay she hadn't been proper polite
in her letters to 'em, for they answered middlin'
short. They said the matter was out o' their
hands, but — let's see if I remember — oh, yes, —
they ree-gretted there had been an oversight. I
reckon they had sent Mary out in the candle-box
as a orphan instead o' havin' a father. Terrible
awkward ! Then, when he'd drinked up the
money, the man come again — in his usuals — an'
he kept hammerin' on and hammerin' on about his
duty to his pore dear wife, an' what he'd do for his
dear daughter in Lunnon, till the tears runned
FRIENDLY BROOK 55
down his two dirty cheeks an' he come away with
more money. Jim used to slip it into his hand be-
hind the door; but his mother she heard the chink.
She didn't hold with hush-money. She'd write out
all her feelin's on the slate, an' Jim 'ud be settin'
up half the night answerin' back an showing that
the man had the law with him.'
' Hadn't that man no trade nor business,
then ? '
' He told me he was a printer. I reckon,
though, he lived on the rates like the rest of 'em
up there in Lunnon.'
* An' how did Mary take it ? '
* She said she'd sooner go into service than go
with the man. I reckon a mistress 'ud be middlin'
put to it for a maid 'fore she put Mary into cap
an' gown. She was studyin' to be a schoo-ool-
teacher. A beauty she'll make ! . . . Well, that
was how things went that fall. Mary's Lunnon
father kep' comin' an' comin' 'carden as he'd
drinked out the money Jim gave him ; an' each
time he'd put up his price for not takin' Mary
away. Jim's mother, she didn't like partin' with
no money, an' bein' obliged to write her feelin's
on the slate instead o' givin' 'em vent by mouth,
she was just about mad. Just about she was mad !
* Come November, I lodged with Jim in the
outside room over 'gainst his hen-house. I paid
her my rent. I was workin' for Dockett at
Pounds — gettin' chestnut-bats out o' Perry Shaw.
Just such weather as this be — rain atop o' rain
after a wet October. (An' I remember it ended
in dry frostes right away up to Christmas.) Dockett
56 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
he'd sent up to Perry Shaw for me — no, he comes
puffin' up to me himself — because a big corner-
piece o' the bank had slipped into the brook, where
she makes that elber at the bottom o' the Seventeen
Acre, an' all the rubbishy alders an' sallies which
he ought to have cut out when he took the farm,
they'd slipped with the slip, an' the brook was
comin' rooshin' down atop of 'em, an' they'd just
about back an' spill the waters over his winter
wheat. The water was lyin' in the flats already.
" Gor a-mighty, Jesse ! " he bellers out at me, " get
that rubbish away all manners you can. Don't
stop for no fagottin', but give the brook play or
my wheat's past salvation. I can't lend you no
help," he says, " but work an' I'll pay ye."
* You had him there,' Jabez chuckled.
' Yes. I reckon I had ought to have drove
my bargain, but the brook was backin' up on good
bread-corn. So 'cardenly, I laid into the mess of
it, workin' off the bank where the trees was
drownin' themselves head-down in the roosh —
just such weather as this — an' the brook creepin'
up on me all the time. 'Long toward noon, Jim
comes mowchin' along with his toppin' axe over
his shoulder.
' " Be you minded for an extra hand at your
job ? " he says.
* " Be you minded to turn to ? " I ses, an' —
no more talk to it — Jim laid in alongside o' me.
He's no hunger with a toppin' axe.'
1 Maybe, but I've seed him at a job o' throwin*
in the woods, an' he didn't seem to make out no
shape,' said Jabez. ' He haven't got the shoulders,
FRIENDLY BROOK 57
nor yet the judgment — my opinion — when he's
dealin' with full-girt timber. He don't rightly
make up his mind where he's goin' to throw her.'
' We wasn't throwin' nothin'. We was cuttin'
out they soft alders, an' haulin' 'em up the bank
'fore they could back the waters on the wheat.
Jim didn't say much, 'less it was that he'd had a
post-card from Mary's Lunnon father, night be-
fore, sayin' he was comin' down that mornin'.
Jim, he'd sweated all night, an' he didn't reckon
hisself equal to the talkin' an' the swearin' an' the
cryin', an' his mother blamin' him afterwards on
the slate. " It spiled my day to think of it," he
ses, when we was eatin' our pieces. " So I've fair
cried dunghill an' run. Mother'll have to tackle
him by herself. 1 lay she won't give him no hush-
money," he ses. " 1 lay he'll be surprised by the
time he's done with her" he ses. An' that was
e'en a'most all the talk we had concernin' it. But
he's no hunger with the toppin' axe.
' The brook she'd crep' up an' up on us, an'
she kep' creepin' upon us till we was workin'
knee-deep in the shallers, cuttin' an' pookin' an'
pullin' what we could get to o' the rubbish. There
was a middlin' lot comin' down-stream, too —
cattle-bars an' hop-poles and odds-ends bats, all
poltin' down together ; but they rooshed round
the elber good shape by the time we'd backed
out they drowned trees. Come four o'clock we
reckoned we'd done a proper day's work, an' she'd
take no harm if we left her. We couldn't puddle
about there in the dark an' wet to no more ad-
vantage. Jim he was pourin' the water out of his
5 8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
boots — no, I was doin' that. Jim was kneelin' to
unlace his'n. " Damn it all, Jesse," he ses, standin'
up ; " the flood must be over my doorsteps at
home, for here comes my old white-top bee-skep ! "
' Yes. I alius heard he paints his bee-sleeps,'
Jabez put in. * I dunno paint don't tarrify bees
more'n it keeps 'em dry.'
' " I'll have a pook at it," he ses, an' he pooks
at it as it comes round the elber. The roosh
nigh jerked the pooker out of his hand-grips, an'
he calls to me, an' I come runnin' barefoot.
Then we pulled on the pooker, an' it reared up
on eend in the roosh, an' we guessed what 'twas.
'Cardenly we pulled it in into a shaller, an' it
rolled a piece, an' a great old stiff man's arm
nigh hit me in the face. Then we was sure.
" 'Tis a man," ses Jim. But the face was all a
mask. " I reckon it's Mary's Lunnon father," he
ses presently. " Lend me a match and I'll make
sure." He never used baccy. We lit three
matches one by another, well's we could in the
rain, an' he cleaned off some o' the slob with a
tussick o' grass. " Yes," he ses. " It's Mary's
Lunnon father. He won't tarrify us no more.
D'you want him, Jesse ? " he ses.
' " No," I ses. " If this was Eastbourne beach
like, he'd be half-a-crown apiece to us 'fore the
coroner ; but now we'd only lose a day havin' to
'tend the inquest. I lay he fell into the brook."
' " I lay he did," ses Jim. " I wonder if he
saw mother." He turns him over, an' opens his
coat and puts his fingers in the waistcoat pocket
an' starts laughin'. " He's seen mother, right
FRIENDLY BROOK
59
enough," he ses. " An' he's got the best of her,
too. She won't be able to crow no more over me
'bout givin' him money. / never give him more
than a sovereign. She's give him two ! " an' he
trousers 'em, laughin' all the time. " An' now
we'll pook him back again, for I've done with
him," he ses.
' So we pooked him back into the middle of
the brook, an' we saw he went round the elber
'thout balkin', an' we walked quite a piece beside
of him to set him on his ways. When we
couldn't see no more, we went home by the high
road, because we knowed the brook 'u'd be out
acrost the medders, an' we wasn't goin' to hunt
for Jim's little rotten old bridge in that dark —
an' rainin' Heavens' hard, too. I was middlin'
pleased to see light an' vittles again when we got
home. Jim he pressed me to come insides for a
drink. He don't drink in a generality, but he
was rid of all his troubles that evenin', d'ye see ?
" Mother," he ses so soon as the door ope'd, " have
you seen him ? " She whips out her slate an'
writes down — "No." " Oh, no," ses Jim. "You
don't get out of it that way, mother. I lay you
have seen him, an' I lay he's bested you for all
your talk, same as he bested me. Make a clean
breast of it, mother," he ses. " He got round you
too." She was goin' for the slate again, but he
stops her. " It's all right, mother," he ses. " I've
seen him sense you have, an' he won't trouble us
no more." The old lady looks up quick as a
robin, an' she writes, " Did he say so ? " " No,"
ses Jim, laughin'. " He didn't say so. That's
60 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
how I know. But he bested you, mother. You
can't have it in at me for bein' soft-hearted.
You're twice as tender-hearted as what I be.
Look ! " he ses, an' he shows her the two
sovereigns. " Put 'em away where they belong,"
he ses. " He won't never come for no more ; an'
now we'll have our drink," he ses, " for we've
earned it."
' Nature-ally they weren't goin' to let me see
where they kep' their monies. She went upstairs
with it — for the whisky.'
' I never knowed Jim was a drinkin' man — in
his own house, like,' said Jabez.
' No more he isn't ; but what he takes he likes
good. He won't tech no publican's hogwash
acrost the bar. Four shillin's he paid for that
bottle o' whisky. I know, because when the
old lady brought it down there wasn't more'n
jest a liddle few dreenin's an' dregs in it. Nothin'
to set before neighbours, I do assure you.'
i " Why, 'twas half full last week, mother," he
ses. " You don't mean," he ses, " you've given
him all that as well ? It's two shillin's worth,"
he ses. (That's how 1 knowed he paid four.)
" Well, well, mother, you be too tender-'earted to
live. But I don't grudge it to him," he ses. " I
don't grudge him nothin' he can keep." So,
'cardenly, we drinked up what little sup was left.'
' An' what come to Mary's Lunnon father ? '
said Jabez, after a full minute's silence.
* I be too tired to go readin' papers of evenin's ;
but Dockett he told me, that very week. I think,
that they'd inquested on a man down at Roberts-
FRIENDLY BROOK 61
bridge which had polted and poked up agin' so
many bridges an' banks, like, they couldn't make
naun out of him.'
* An' what did Mary say to all these doin's ? '
* The old lady bundled her off to the village
'fore her Lunnon father come, to buy week-end
stuff (an' she forgot the half o' it). When we
come in she was upstairs studyin' to be a school-
teacher. None told her naun about it. 'Twadn't
girls' affairs.'
' 'Reckon she knowed ? ' Jabez went on.
' She ? She must have guessed it middlin'
close when she saw her money come back. But
she never mentioned it in writing so far's I know.
She were more worritted that night on account of
two-three her chickens bein' drowned, for the
flood had skewed their old hen-house round on
her postes. I cobbled her up next mornin' when
the brook shrinked.'
'An' where did you find the bridge? Some
fur down-stream, didn't ye ? '
' Just where she alius was. She hadn't shifted
but very little. The brook had gulled out the
bank a piece under one eend o' the plank, so's she
was liable to tilt ye sideways if you wasn't careful.
But I pooked three-four bricks under her, an' she
was all plumb again.'
'Well, I dunno how it looks like, but let be
how 'twill,' said Jabez, ' he hadn't no business to
come down from Lunnon tarrifyin' people, an'
threatenin' to take away children which they'd
hobbed up for their lawful own — even if 'twas
Mary Wickenden.'
62 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' He had the business right enough, an' he had
the law with him — no gettin' over that,' said Jesse.
' But he had the drink with him, too, an' that
was where he failed, like.'
' Well, well ! Let be how 'twill, the brook was
a good friend to Jim. I see it now. I alius dia
wonder what he was gettin' at when he said that,
when I talked to him about shiftin' the stack.
" You dunno everythin'," he ses. " The Brook's
been a good friend to me," he ses, " an* if she's
minded to have a snatch at my hay, / ain't settin'
out to withstand her." '
1 1 reckon she's about shifted it, too, by now,'
Jesse chuckled. ' Hark ! That ain't any slip off
the bank which she's got hold of.'
The Brook had changed her note again. It
sounded as though she were mumbling something
soft.
THE LAND
When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald,
In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-
field,
He called to him Hobdenius — a Briton of the
m Clay,
Saying : ' What about that River-piece for layin'
in to hay ? '
And the aged Hobden answered : ' I remember
as a lad
My father told your father that she wanted
dreenin' bad.
An' the more that you neeglect her the less you'll
get her clean.
Have it jest as you've a mind to, but, if I was
you, I'd dreen.'
So they drained it long and crossways in the lavish
Roman style.
Still we find among the river-drift their flakes of
ancient tile,
63
64 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
And in drouthy middle August, when the bones
of meadows show,
We can trace the lines they followed sixteen
hundred years ago.
Then Julius Fabricius died as even Prefects do,
And after certain centuries, Imperial Rome died
too.
Then did robbers enter Britain from across the
Northern main
And our Lower River-field was won by Ogier the
Dane.
Well could Ogier work his war-boat — well could
Ogier wield his brand —
Much he knew of foaming waters — not so much
of farming land.
So he called to him a Hobden of the old unaltered
blood,
Saying : ' What about that River-bit, she doesn't
look no good ? '
And that aged Hobden answered : ' 'Tain't for me
to interfere,
But I've known that bit o' meadow now for five
and fifty year.
Have it jest as you've a mind to, but I've proved
it time on time,
If you want to change her nature you have got to
give her lime ! '
THE LAND 65
Ogier sent his wains to Lewes, twenty hours'
solemn walk,
And drew back great abundance of the cool, grey,
healing chalk.
And old Hobden spread it broadcast, never
heeding what was in't ;
Which is why in cleaning ditches, now and then
we find a flint.
Ogier died. His sons grew English. Anglo-
Saxon was their name,
Till out of blossomed Normandy another pirate
came ;
For Duke William conquered England and
divided with his men,
And our Lower River-field he gave to William
of Warenne.
But the Brook (you know her habit) rose one
rainy Autumn night
And tore down sodden flitches of the bank to
left and right.
So, said William to his Bailiff as they rode their
dripping rounds :
* Hob, what about that River- bit — the Brook's
got up no bounds ? '
And that aged Hobden answered : * 'Tain't my
business to advise,
But ye might ha' known 'twould happen from
the way the valley lies.
F
66 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
When ye can't hold back the water you must try
and save the sile.
Hev it jest as you've a mind to, but, if I was you,
I'd spile ! '
They spiled along the water-course with trunks
of willow-trees
And planks of elms behind 'em and immortal
oaken knees.
And when the spates of Autumn whirl the gravel-
beds away
You can see their faithful fragments iron-hard in
iron clay.
Georgii Qjuinti Anno Sex to , I, who own the River-
field,
Am fortified with title-deeds, attested, signed
and sealed,
Guaranteeing me, my assigns, my executors and
heirs
All sorts of powers and profits which — are neither
mine nor theirs.
I have rights of chase and warren, as my dignity
requires.
I can fish — but Hobden tickles. I can shoot —
but Hobden wires.
I repair, but he reopens, certain gaps which, men
allege,
Have been used by every Hobden since a Hobden
swapped a hedge.
THE LAND 67
Shall I dog his morning progress o'er the track-
betraying dew ?
Demand his dinner-basket into which my pheasant
flew?
Confiscate his evening faggot into which the
conies ran,
And summons him to judgment ? I would sooner
summons Pan.
His dead are in the churchyard — thirty genera-
tions laid.
Their names went, down in Domesday Book
when Domesday Book was made.
And the passion and the piety and prowess of his
line
Have seeded, rooted, fruited in some land the
Law calls mine.
Not for any beast that burrows, not for any bird
that flies,
Would I lose his large sound council, miss his
keen amending eyes.
He is bailiff, woodman, wheelwright, field-
surveyor, engineer,
And if flagrantly a poacher — 'tain't for me to
interfere.
c Hob, what about that River-bit ? ' I turn to
him again
With Fabricius and Ogier and William of
Warenne.
68 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
'Hev it jest as you've a mind to, but1 — and so
he takes command.
For whoever pays the taxes old Mus' Hobden
owns the land.
In the Same Boat
(1911)
e A throbbing vein,' said Dr. Gilbert soothingly,
' is the mother of delusion.*
* Then how do you account for my knowing
when the thing is due ? ' Conroy's voice rose
almost to a break.
1 Of course, but you should have consulted a
doctor before using — palliatives.'
' It was driving me mad. And now I can't
give them up.'
' 'Not so bad as that ! One doesn't form fatal
habits at twenty-five. Think again. Were you
ever frightened as a child ? '
' I don't remember. It began when I was
a boy.'
1 With or without the spasm ? By the way,
do you mind describing the spasm again ? '
' Well,' said Conroy, twisting in the chair, * I'm
no musician, but suppose you were a violin-string
— vibrating — and some one put his finger on
you ? As if a finger were put on the naked soul !
Awful ! '
69
70 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
'So's indigestion — so's nightmare — while it
lasts.'
' But the horror afterwards knocks me out for
days. And the waiting for it . . . and then this
drug habit ! It can't go on ! ' He shook as he
spoke, and the chair creaked.
' My dear fellow,' said the doctor, c when
you're older you'll know what burdens the best
of us carry. A fox to every Spartan.'
' That doesn't help me. I can't ! I can't ! '
cried Conroy, and burst into tears.
* Don't apologise,' said Gilbert, when the
paroxysm ended. ' I'm used to people coming a
little — unstuck in this room.'
' It's those tabloids ! ' Conroy stamped his foot
feebly as he blew his nose. ' They've knocked
me out. I used to be fit once. Oh, I've tried
exercise and everything. But — if one sits down
for a minute when it's due — even at four in the
morning — it runs up behind one.'
' Ye-es. Many things come in the quiet of
the morning. You always know when the visita-
tion is due ? '
' What would I give not to be sure ! ' he
sobbed.
' We'll put that aside for the moment. I'm
thinking of a case where what we'll call anasmia of
the brain was masked (I don't say cured) by
vibration. He couldn't sleep, or thought he
couldn't, but a steamer voyage and the thump
of the screw '
' A steamer ? After what I've told you !' Con-
roy almost shrieked. ' I'd sooner . . . '
IN THE SAME BOAT 71
'Of course not a steamer in your case, but a
long railway journey the next time you think it
will trouble you. It sounds absurd, but '
1 I'd try anything. I nearly have,' Conroy
sighed.
1 Nonsense ! I've given you a tonic that will
clear that notion from your head. Give the train a
chance, and don't begin the journey by bucking
yourself up with tabloids. Take them along, but
hold them in reserve — in reserve.'
'D'you think I've self-control enough, after
what you've heard ? ' said Conroy.
Dr. Gilbert smiled. 'Yes. After what I've
seen,' he glanced round the room, ' I have no
hesitation in saying you have quite as much
self-control as many other people. I'll write you
later about your journey. Meantime, the tonic,'
and he gave some general directions before Conroy
left.
An hour later Dr. Gilbert hurried to the links,
where the others of his regular week-end game
awaited him. It was a rigid round, played as
usual at the trot, for the tension of the week lay
as heavy on the two King's Counsels and Sir John
Chartres as on Gilbert. The lawyers were old
enemies of the Admiralty Court, and Sir John of
the frosty eyebrows and Abernethy manner was
bracketed with, but before, Rutherford Gilbert
among nerve-specialists.
At the Club-house afterwards the lawyers
renewed their squabble over a tangled collision
case, and the doctors as naturally compared pro-
fessional matters.
72 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Lies — all lies,' said Sir John, when Gilbert
had told him Conroy's trouble. ' Post hoc, propter
hoc. The man or woman who drugs is ipso facto
a liar. You've no imagination.'
' 'Pity you haven't a little — occasionally.'
* I have believed a certain type of patient in
my time. It's always the same. For reasons not
given in the consulting-room they take to the
drug. Certain symptoms follow. They will
swear to you, and believe it, that they took the
drug to mask the symptoms. What does your
man use? Najdolene? I thought so. I had
practically the duplicate of your case last
Thursday. Same old Najdolene — same old lie.'
' Tell me the symptoms, and I'll draw my own
inferences, Johnnie.'
' Symptoms ! The girl was rank poisoned
with Najdolene. Ramping, stamping possession.
Gad, I thought she'd have the chandelier down.'
' Mine came unstuck too, and he has the
physique of a bull,' said Gilbert. ' "What delusions
had yours ? '
' Faces — faces with mildew on them. In any
other walk of life we'd call it the Horrors. She
told me, of course, she took the drugs to mask the
faces. Post hoc, propter hoc again. All liars ! '
' What's that ? ' said the senior K.C. quickly.
* 'Sounds professional.'
' Go away ! Not for you, Sandy.' Sir John
turned a shoulder against him and walked with
Gilbert in the chill evening.
To Conroy in his chambers came, one week
later, this letter :
IN THE SAME BOAT 73
Dear Mr. Conroy — If your plan of a night's trip
on the 17th still holds good, and you have no particular
destination in view, you could do me a kindness. A Miss
Henschil, in whom I am interested, goes down to the
West by the 10.8 from Waterloo (Number 3 platform)
on that night. She is not exactly an invalid, but, like
so many of us, a little shaken in her nerves. Her maid,
of course, accompanies her, but if I knew you were in
the same train it would be an additional source of strength.
Will you please write and let me know whether the
10.8 from Waterloo, Number 3 platform, on the 17th,
suits you, and I will meet you there ? Don't forget my
caution, and keep up the tonic. — Yours sincerely,
L. Rutherford Gilbert.
' He knows I'm scarcely fit to look after my-
self,' was Conroy's thought. * And he wants me
to look after a woman ! '
Yet, at the end of half an hour's irresolution,
he accepted.
Now Conroy's trouble, which had lasted for
years, was this :
On a certain night, while he lay between sleep
and wake, he would be overtaken by a long
shuddering sigh, which he learned to know was
the sign that his brain had once more conceived
its horror, and in time — in due time — would bring
it forth.
Drugs could so well veii that horror that it
shuffled along no worse than as a freezing dream
in a procession of disorderly dreams ; but over the
return of the event drugs had no control. Once
that sigh had passed his lips the thing was inevitable,
and through the days granted before its rebirth he
walked in torment. For the first two years he
74 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
had striven to fend it off by distractions, but
neither exercise nor drink availed. Then he had
come to the tabloids of the excellent M. Najdol.
These guarantee, on the label, ' Refreshing and
absolutely natural sleep to the soul-weary.' They
are carried in a case with a spring which presses
one scented tabloid to the end of the tube, whence
it can be lipped off in stroking the moustache or
adjusting the veil.
Three years of M. Najdol's preparations do
not fit a man for many careers. His friends, who
knew he did not drink, assumed that Conroy had
strained his heart through valiant outdoor exercises,
and Conroy had with some care invented an
imaginary doctor, symptoms, and regimen, which
he discussed with them and with his mother in
Hereford. She maintained that he would grow
out of it, and recommended nux vomica.
When at last Conroy faced a real doctor, it
was, he hoped, to be saved from suicide by a
strait-waistcoat. Yet Dr. Gilbert had but given
him more drugs — a tonic, for instance, that would
couple railway carriages — and had advised a night
in the train. Not alone the horrors of a railway
journey (for which a man who dare keep no
servant must e'en pack, label, and address his own
bag), but the necessity for holding himself in hand
before a stranger ' a little shaken in her nerves.'
He spent a long forenoon packing, because
when he assembled and counted things his mind
slid off to the hours that remained of the day
before his night, and he found himself counting
minutes aloud. At such times the injustice of his
IN THE SAME BOAT
75
fate would drive him to revolts which no servant
should witness, but on this evening Dr. Gilbert's
tonic held him fairly calm while he put up his
patent razors.
Waterloo Station shook him into real life.
The change tor his ticket needed concentration, if
only to prevent shillings and pence turning into
minutes at the booking-office ; and he spoke quickly
to a porter about the disposition of his bag. The
old 10.8 from Waterloo to the West was an all-
night caravan that halted, in the interests of the
milk traffic, at almost every station.
Dr. Gilbert stood by the door of the one com-
posite corridor- coach ; an older and stouter man
behind hirm ' So glad you're here ! ' he cried.
' Let me get your ticket.'
' Certainly not,' Conroy answered. ' I got it
myself — long ago. My bag's in too,' he added
proudly.
1 1 beg your pardon. Miss Henschil's here.
I'll introduce you.'
1 But — but,' he stammered — ' think of the state
I'm in. If anything happens I shall collapse.'
' Not you. You'd rise to the occasion like a
bird. And as for the self-control you were talk-
ing of the other day ' — Gilbert swung him round
—'look!'
A young man in an ulster over a silk-faced
frock-coat stood by the carriage window, weeping
shamelessly.
' Oh, but that's only drink,' Conroy said. ' I
haven't had one of my — my things since lunch.'
1 Excellent ! ' said Gilbert. ' I knew I could
76 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
depend on you. Come along. Wait for a
minute, Chartres.'
A tall woman, veiled, sat by the far window.
She bowed her head as the doctor murmured
Conroy knew not what. Then he disappeared and
the inspector came for tickets.
' My maid — next compartment,' she said
slowly.
Conroy showed his ticket, but in returning it to
the sleeve -pocket of his ulster the little silver
Najdolene case slipped from his glove and fell to
the floor. He snatched it up as the moving train
flung him into his seat.
' How nice ! ' said the woman. She leisurely
lifted her veil, unbuttoned the first button of her left
glove, and pressed out from its palm a Najdolene-
case.
' Don't ! ' said Conroy, not realising he had
spoken.
' I beg your pardon.' The deep voice was
measured, even, and low. Conroy knew what
made it so.
T said "don't" ! He wouldn't like you to do it!'
' No, he would not.' She held the tube with
its ever - presented tabloid between finger and
thumb. ' But aren't you one of the — ah — " soul-
weary " too ? '
' That's why. Oh, please don't ! Not at first.
I — I haven't had one since morning. You —
you'll set me off ! '
1 You ? Are you so far gone as that ? '
He nodded, pressing his palms together. The
train jolted through Vauxhall points, and was
IN THE SAME BOAT 77
welcomed with the clang of empty milk-cans for
the West.
After long silence she lifted her great eyes, and,
with an innocence that would have deceived any
sound man, asked Conroy to call her maid to bring
her a forgotten book.
Conroy shook his head. ' No. Our sort can't
read. Don't ! '
* Were you sent to watch me ? ' The voice
never changed.
' Me ? I need a keeper myself much more —
this night of all !
'This night ? Have you a night, then ? They
disbelieved me when I told them of mine.' She
leaned back and laughed, always slowly. ' Aren't
doctors stu-upid ? They don't know.'
She leaned, her elbow on her knee, lifted her
veil that had fallen, and, chin in hand, stared at
him. He looked at her — till his eyes were blurred
with tears.
1 Have / been there, think you ? ' she said.
' Surely — surely,' Conroy answered, for he had
well seen the fear and the horror that lived behind
the heavy-lidded eyes, the fine tracing on the
broad forehead, and the guard set about the
desirable mouth.
* Then — suppose we have one — just one apiece ?
I've gone without since this afternoon.'
He put up his hand, and would have shouted,
but his voice broke.
1 Don't ! Can't you see that it helps me to help
you to keep it off? Don't let's both go down
together.'
78 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' But I want one. It's a poor heart that never
rejoices. Just one. It's my night.'
' It's mine — too. My sixty-fourth, fifth, sixth,
seventh.' He shut his lips firmly against the tide
of visualised numbers that threatened to carry him
along.
' Ah, it's only my thirty-ninth.' She paused as
he had done. ' I wonder if I shall last into the
sixties. . . . Talk to me or I shall go crazy.
You're a man. You're the stronger vessel. Tell
me when you went to pieces.'
' One, two, three, four, five, six, seven — eight —
I beg your pardon.'
' Not in the least. I always pretend I've dropped
a stitch of my knitting. I count the days till the
last day, then the hours, then the minutes. Do
you ? '
' 1 don't think I've done very much else for the
last ' said Conroy, shivering, for the night was
cold, with a chill he recognised.
' Oh, how comforting to find some one who can
talk sense ! It's not always the same date, is it ? '
' What difference would that make ? ' He un-
buttoned his ulster with a jerk. ' You're a sane
woman. Can't you see the wicked — wicked —
wicked ' (dust flew from the padded arm-rest as
he struck it) ' unfairness of it ? What have /
done ? '
She laid her large hand on his shoulder very
firmly.
' If you begin to think over that,' she said,
* you'll go to pieces and be ashamed. Tell me yours,
and I'll tell you mine. Only be quiet — be quiet,
IN THE SAME BOAT 79
lad, or you'll set me off ! ' She made shift to
soothe him, though her chin trembled.
* Well,' said he at last, picking at the arm-rest
between them, ' mine's nothing much, of course.'
I Don't be a fool ! That's for doctors — and
mothers.'
' It's Hell,' Conroy muttered. ' It begins on a
steamer — on a stifling hot night. I come out of
my cabin. I pass through the saloon where the
stewards have rolled up the carpets, and the boards
are bare and hot and soapy.'
' I've travelled too,' she said.
' Ah ! I come on deck. I walk down a covered
alleyway. Butcher's meat, bananas, oil, that sort
of smell.'
Again she nodded.
' It's a lead-coloured steamer, and the sea's lead-
coloured. Perfectly smooth sea — perfectly still
ship, except for the engines running, and her waves
going off in lines and lines and lines — dull grey.
All this time I know something's going to happen.'
* I know. Something going to happen,' she
whispered.
' Then I hear a thud in the engine-room. Then
the noise of machinery falling down — like fire-irons
— and then two most awful yells. They're more
like hoots, and I know — I know while I listen —
that it means that two men have died as they
hooted. It was their last breath hooting out of
them — in most awful pain. Do you understand ? '
I I ought to. Go on.'
1 That's the first part. Then I hear bare feet
running along the alleyway. One of the scalded
80 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
men comes up behind me and says quite distinctly,
" My friend ! All is lost ! " Then he taps me on
the shoulder and I hear him drop down dead.'
He panted and wiped his forehead.
* So that is your night ? ' she said.
' That is my night. It comes every few weeks
— so many days after I get what I call sentence.
Then I begin to count.'
' Get sentence ? D'ycu mean this ? ' She half
closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and shuddered.
' " Notice " I call it. Sir John thought it was all
If
les.
She had unpinned her hat and thrown it on the
seat opposite, showing the immense mass of her
black hair, rolled low in the nape of the columnar
neck and looped over the left ear. But Conroy
had no eyes except for her grave eyes.
* Listen now ! ' said she. ' I walk down a road, a
white sandy road near the sea. There are broken
fences on either side, and Men come and look at me
over them.'
' Just men ? Do they speak ? '
* They try to. Their faces are all mildewy —
eaten away,' and she hid her face for an instant
with her left hand. * It's the Faces — the Faces ! '
' Yes. Like my two hoots. / know.'
1 Ah ! But the place itself — the bareness — and
the glitter and the salt smells, and the wind blowing
the sand ! The Men run after me and I run. . . .
I know what's coming too. One of them touches
me.'
* Yes ! What comes then ? We've both shirked
that.'
IN THE SAME BOAT 81
' One awful shock — not palpitation, but shock,
shock, shock ! '
* As though your soul were being stopped — as
you'd stop a finger-bowl humming ? ' he said.
' Just that," she answered. ' One's very soul —
the soul that one lives by — stopped. So ! '
She drove her thumb deep into the arm-rest.
1 And now,' she whined to him, ' now that we've
stirred each other up this way, mightn't we have
just one ? '
1 No,' said Conroy, shaking. ' Let's hold on.
We're past ' — he peered out of the black windows
— ' Woking. There's the Necropolis. How long
till dawn ? '
* Oh, cruel long yet. If one dozes for a minute,
it catches one.'
' And how d'you find that this ' — he tapped the
palm of his glove — ■' helps you ? '
* It covers up the thing from being too real —
if one takes enough — you know. Only — only —
one loses everything else. I've been no more than
a bogie-girl for two years. What would you give
to be real again ? This lying's such a nuisance.'
' One must protect oneself — and there's one's
mother to think of,' he answered.
* True. I hope allowances are made for us
somewhere. Our burden — can you hear ? — our
burden is heavy enough.'
She rose, towering into the roof of the carriage.
Conroy's ungentle grip pulled her back.
'Now you are foolish. Sit down,' said he.
* But the cruelty of it ! Can't you see it ? Don't
you feel it? Let's take one now — before I '
82 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Sit down ! ' cried Conroy, and the sweat stood
again on his forehead. He had fought through
a few nights, and had been defeated on more, and
he knew the rebellion that flares beyond control
to exhaustion.
She smoothed her hair and dropped back, but
for a while her head and throat moved with the
sickening motion of a captured wry-neck.
' Once,' she said, spreading out her hands, ' I
ripped my counterpane from end to end. That
takes strength. I had it then. I've little now.
" All dorn," as my little niece says. And you,
lad ? '
' " All dorn " ! Let me keep your case for
you till the morning.'
' But the cold feeling is beginning.'
1 Lend it me, then.'
* And the drag down my right side. I shan't
be able to move in a minute.'
' I can scarcely lift my arm myself,' said
Conroy. ' We're in for it.'
* Then why are you so foolish ? You know it'll
be easier if we have only one — only one apiece.'
She was lifting the case to her mouth, With
tremendous effort Conroy caught it. The two
moved like jointed dolls, and when their hands
met it was as wood on wood.
* You must — not ! ' said Conroy. His jaws
stiffened, and the cold climbed from his feet up.
'Why — must — I — not?' She repeated the
words idiotically.
Conroy could only shake his head, while he
bore down on the hand and the case in it.
IN THE SAME BOAT 83
Her speech went from her altogether. The
wonderful lips rested half over the even teeth,
the breath was in the nostrils only, the eyes dulled,
the face set grey, and through the glove the hand
struck like ice.
Presently her soul came back and stood behind
her eyes — only thing that had life in all that place
— stood and looked for Conroy's soul. He too
was fettered in every limb, but somewhere at an
immense distance he heard his heart going about
its work as the engine-room carries on through
and beneath the all but overwhelming wave. His
one hope, he knew, was not to lose the eyes that
clung to his, because there was an Evil abroad
which would possess him if he looked aside by a
hairbreadth.
The rest was darkness through which some
distant planet spun while cymbals clashed. (Beyond
Farnborough the 10.8 rolls out many empty milk-
cans at every halt.) Then a body came to life
with intolerable pricklings. Limb by limb, after
agonies of terror, that body returned to him,
steeped in most perfect physical weariness such as
follows a long day's rowing. He saw the heavy
lids droop over her eyes — the watcher behind
them departed — and, his soul sinking into assured
peace, Conroy slept.
Light on his eyes and a salt breath roused him
without shock. Her hand still held his. She
slept, forehead down upon it, but the movement
of his waking waked her too, and she sneezed like
a child.
' I — I think it's morning,' said Conroy.
84 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
c And nothing has happened ! Did you see
your Men ? I didn't see my Faces. Does it
mean we've escaped ? Did — did you take any
after 1 went to sleep? I'll swear / didn't,' she
stammered.
'No, there wasn't any need. We've slept
through it/
1 No need ! Thank God ! There was no
need ! Oh, look ! '
The train was running under red cliffs along a
sea-wall washed by waves that were colourless in
the early light. Southward the sun rose mistily
upon the Channel.
She leaned out of the window and breathed
to the bottom of her lungs, while the wind wrenched
down her dishevelled hair and blew it below her
waist.
1 Well ! ' she said with splendid eyes. ' Aren't
you still waiting for something to happen ? '
* No. Not till next time. We've been let off,'
Conroy answered, breathing as deeply as she.
' Then we ought to say our prayers.'
s What nonsense ! Some one will see us. '
c We needn't kneel. Stand up and say " Our
Father." We musi ! '
It was the first time since childhood that
Conroy had prayed. They laughed hysterically
when a curve threw them against an arm-rest.
' Now for breakfast ! ' she cried. * My maid —
Nurse Blaber — has the basket and things. It'll
be ready in twenty minutes. Oh ! Look at my
hair ! ' and she went out laughing.
Conroy 's first discovery, made without fumbling
IN THE SAME BOAT 85
or counting letters on taps, was that the London
and South Western's allowance of washing-water is
inadequate. He used every drop, rioting in the
cold tingle on neck and arms. To shave in a
moving train balked him, but the next halt gave
him a chance, which, to his own surprise, he took.
As he stared at himself in the mirror he smiled and
nodded. There were points about this person with
the clear, if sunken, eye and the almost uncom-
pressed mouth. But when he bore his bag back
to his compartment, the weight of it on a limp
arm humbled that new pride.
I My friend,' he said, half aloud, ' you go into
training. You're putty.'
She met him in the spare compartment, where
her maid had laid breakfast.
' By Jove ! ' he said, halting at the doorway, ' I
hadn't realised how beautiful you were ! '
* The same to you, lad. Sit down. I could eat
a horse.'
I I shouldn't,' said the maid quietly. ' The less
you eat the better.' She was a small, freckled
woman, with light fluffy hair and pale-blue eyes
that looked through all veils.
' This is Miss Blaber,' said Miss Henschil. ' He's
one of the soul-weary too, Nursey.'
' I know it. But when one has just given it up
a full meal doesn't agree. That's v/hy I've only
brought you bread and butter.'
She went out quietly, and Conroy reddened.
' We're still children, you see,' said Miss
Henschil. ' But I'm well enough to feel some
shame of it. D'you take sugar ? '
86 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
They starved together heroically, and Nurse
Blaber was good enough to signify approval when
she came to clear away.
' Nursey ? ' Miss Henschil insinuated, and
flushed.
' Do you smoke ? ' said the nurse coolly to
Conroy.
1 1 haven't in years. Now you mention it, I
think I'd like a cigarette — or something.'
' I used to. D'you think it would keep me
quiet ? ' Miss Henschil said.
' Perhaps. Try these.' The nurse handed them
her cigarette-case.
1 Don't take anything else,' she commanded,
and went away with the tea-basket.
* Good ! ' grunted Conroy, between mouthfuls of
tobacco.
■ 'Better than nothing,' said Miss Henschil ; but
for a while they felt ashamed, yet with the comfort
of children punished together.
'Now,' she whispered, ' who were you when you
were a man ? '
Conroy told her, and in return she gave him her
history. It delighted them both to deal once
more in worldly concerns — families, names, places,
and dates — with a person of understanding.
She came, she said, of Lancashire folk — wealthy
cotton-spinners, who still kept the broadened a
and slurred aspirate of the old stock. She lived
with an old masterful mother in an opulent world
north of Lancaster Gate, where people in Society
gave parties at a Mecca called the Langham Hotel.
She herself had been launched into Society there,
IN THE SAME BOAT 87
and the flowers at the ball had cost eighty-seven
pounds ; but, being reckoned peculiar, she had made
few friends among her own sex. She had attracted
many men, for she was a beauty — the beauty, in
fact, of Society, she said.
She spoke utterly without shame or reticence, as
a life-prisoner tells his past to a fellow-prisoner ;
and Conroy nodded across the smoke-rings.
' Do you remember when you got into the
carriage ? ' she asked. ' (Oh, I wish I had some
knitting ! ) Did you notice aught, lad ? '
Conroy thought back. It was ages since.
' Wasn't there some one outside the door —
crying ? ' he asked.
' He's — he's the little man I was engaged to,'
she said. * But I made him break it off. I told
him 'twas no good. But he won't, yo' see.'
' That fellow ? Why, he doesn't come up to
your shoulder.'
' That's naught to do with it. I think all the
world of him. I'm a foolish wench ' — her speech
wandered as she settled herself cosily, one elbow on
the arm-rest. ' We'd been engaged — I couldn't
help that — and he worships the ground I tread on.
But it's no use. I'm not responsible, you see. His
two sisters are against it, though I've the money.
They're right, but they think it's the dri-ink,' she
drawled. ' They're Methody — the Skinners. You
see, their grandfather that started the Patton Mills,
he died o' the dri-ink.'
' I see,' said Conroy. The grave face before him
under the lifted veil was troubled.
' George Skinner.' She breathed it softly.
88 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
1 I'd make him a good wife, by God's gra-ace— -
if I could. But it's no use. I'm not responsible.
But he'll not take " No " for an answer. I used to
call him " Toots." He's of no consequence, yo' see.'
* That's in Dickens,' said Conroy, quite quickly.
' I haven't thought of Toots for years. He was
at Doctor Blimber's.'
' And so — that's my trouble,' she concluded,
ever so slightly wringing her hands. ' But I —
don't you think — there's hope now ? '
* Eh ? ' said Conroy. ' Oh yes ! This is the
first time I've turned my corner without help.
With your help, I should say.'
' It'll come back, though.'
* Then shall we meet it in the same way ?
Here's my card. Write me your train, and we'll
go together.'
' Yes. We must do that. But between times
— when we want ' She looked at her palm,
the four fingers working on it. ' It's hard to
give 'em up.'
* But think what we have gained already, and
let me have the case to keep.'
She shook her head, and threw her cigarette
out of the window. 'Not yet.'
' Then let's lend our cases to Nurse, and we'll
get through to-day on cigarettes. I'll call her
while we feel strong.'
She hesitated, but yielded at last, and Nurse
accepted the offerings with a smile.
' You 11 be all right,' she said to Miss Henschil.
1 But if I were you ' — to Conroy — ' I'd take strong
exercise.'
IN THE SAME BOAT 89
When they reached their destination Conroy
set himself to obey Nurse Blaber. He had no
remembrance of that day, except one streak of
blue sea to his left, gorse-bushes to his right, and,
before him, a coast-guard's track marked with
white-washed stones that he counted up to the far
thousands. As he returned to the little town he
saw Miss Henschil on the beach below the cliffs.
She kneeled at Nurse Blaber's feet, weeping and
pleading.
Twenty-five days later a telegram came to
Conroy's rooms : ' Notice given. Waterloo again.
Twenty -fourth? That same evening he was
wakened by the shudder and the sigh that told
him his sentence had gone forth. Yet he reflected
on his pillow that he had, in spite of lapses,
snatched something like three weeks of life, which
included several rides on a horse before breakfast
— the hour one most craves Najdolene ; five
consecutive evenings on the river at Hammersmith
in a tub where he had well stretched the white
arms that passing crews mocked at ; a game of
rackets at his club ; three dinners, one small
dance, and one human flirtation with a human
woman. More notable still, he had settled his
month's accounts, only once confusing petty cash
with the days of grace allowed him. Next
morning he rode his hired beast in the park
victoriously. He saw Miss Henschil on horse-
back near Lancaster Gate, talking to a young man
at the railings.
She wheeled and cantered toward him.
90 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
I By Jove ! How well you look ! ' he cried,
without salutation. * I didn't know you rode.'
I I used to once,' she replied. 'I'm all soft now.'
They swept off together down the ride.
' Your beast pulls,' he said.
* Wa-ant him to. Gi-gives me something to
think of. How've you been ? ' she panted. ' I
wish chemists' shops hadn't red lights.'
* Have you slipped out and bought some,
then?'
* You don't know Nursey. Eh, but it's good
to be on a horse again ! This chap cost me two
hundred.'
1 Then you've been swindled,' said Conroy.
* I know it, but it's no odds. I must go back
to Toots and send him away. He's neglecting
his work for me.'
She swung her heavy-topped animal on his
none too sound hocks. ' 'Sentence come, lad ? '
' Yes. But I'm not minding it so much this
time.'
'Waterloo, then — and God help us!' She
thundered back to the little frock-coated figure
that waited faithfully near the gate.
Conroy felt the spring sun on his shoulders
and trotted home. That evening he went out
with a man in a pair oar, and was rowed to a
standstill. But the other man owned he could
not have kept the pace five minutes longer.
He carried his bag all down Number 3
platform at Waterloo, and hove it with one hand
into the rack.
IN THE SAME BOAT 91
' Well done ! ' said Nurse Blaber, in the
corridor. ' We've improved too.'
Dr. Gilbert and an older man came out of the
next compartment.
' Hallo ! ' said Gilbert. ' Why haven't you been
to see me, Mr. Conroy ? Come under the lamp.
Take offyour hat. No — no. Sit, you young giant.
Ve-ry good. Look here a minute, Johnnie.'
A little, round-bellied, hawk-faced person glared
at him.
* Gilbert was right about the beauty of the beast,'
he muttered. 'D'you keep it in your glove now?'
he went on, and punched Conroy in the short ribs.
* No,' said Conroy meekly, but without cough-
ing. ' Nowhere — on my honour ! I've chucked
it for good.'
' Wait till you are a sound man before you say
that, Mr. Conroy.' Sir John Chartres stumped out,
saying to Gilbert in the corridor, * It's all very fine,
but the question is shall I or we " Sir Pandarus of
Troy become," eh ? We're bound to think of the
children.'
1 Have you been vetted ? ' said Miss Henschil,
a few minutes after the train started. ' May I sit
with you? I — I don't trust myself yet. I can't
give up as easily as you can, seemingly.'
' Can't you ? I never saw any one so improved
in a month.'
' Look here ! ' She reached across to the rack,
single-handed lifted Conroy's bag, and held it at
arm's length. 'I counted ten slowly. And I didn't
think of hours or minutes,' she boasted.
* Don't remind me,' he cried.
92 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
1 Ah ! Now I've reminded myself. I wish I
hadn't. Do you think it'll be easier for us
to-night ? '
' Oh, don't.' The smell of the carriage had
brought back all his last trip to him, and Conroy
moved uneasily.
* I'm sorry. I've brought some games,' she
went on. * Draughts and cards — but they all
mean counting. I wish I'd brought chess, but
I can't play chess. What can we do ? Talk about
something.'
' Well, how's Toots, to begin with ? ' said
Conroy.
* Why ? Did you see him on the platform ? '
' No. Was he there ? I didn't notice.'
' Oh yes. He doesn't understand. He's des-
perately jealous. I told him it doesn't matter.
Will you please let me hold your hand ? I believe
I'm beginning to get the chill.'
' Toots ought to envy me,' said Conroy.
' He does. He paid you a high compliment
the other night. He's taken to calling again — in
spite of all they say.'
Conroy inclined his head. He felt cold, and
knew surely he would be colder.
* He said,' she yawned. ' (Beg your pardon.)
He said he couldn't see how I could help falling
in love with a man like you; and he called himself
a damned little rat, and he beat his head on the
piano last night.'
* The piano ? You play, then ? '
' Only to him. He thinks the world of my
accomplishments. Then I told him I wouldn't have
IN THE SAME BOAT 93
you if you were the last man on earth instead of
only the best-looking — not with a million in each
stocking.'
' No, not with a million in each stocking,' said
Conroy vehemently. * Isn't that odd ? '
' I suppose so — to any one who doesn't know.
Well, where was I ? Oh, George as good as told
me I was deceiving him, and he wanted to go
away without saying good-night. He hates stand-
ing a-tiptoe, but he must if 1 won't sit down.'
Conroy would have smiled, but the chill that
foreran the coming of the Lier-in-Wait was upon
him, and his hand closed warningly on hers.
* And — and so — ' she was trying to say, when
her hour also overtook her, leaving alive only the
fear-dilated eyes that turned to Conroy. Hand
froze on hand and the body with it as they waited
for the horror in the blackness that heralded it.
Yet through the worst Conroy saw, at an uncount-
able distance, one minute glint of light in his
night. Thither would he go and escape his fear ;
and behold, that light was the light in the watch-
tower of her eyes, where her locked soul signalled
to his soul : ' Look at me ! '
In time, from him and from her, the Thing
sheered aside, that each soul might step down and
resume its own concerns. He thought confusedly
of people on the skirts of a thunderstorm, with-
drawing from windows where the torn night is,
to their known and furnished beds. Then he
dozed, till in some drowsy turn his hand fell from
her warmed hand.
1 That's all. The Faces haven't come,' he
94 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
heard her say. ' All — thank God ! I don't feel
even I need what Nursey promised me. Do
you ? '
1 No.' He rubbed his eyes. ' But don't make
too sure.'
' Certainly not. We shall have to try again
next month. I'm afraid it will be an awful
nuisance for you.'
* Not to me, I assure you,' said Conroy, and
they leaned back and laughed at the flatness of
the words, after the hells through which they had
just risen.
' And now,' she said, strict eyes on Conroy,
' why wouldn't you take me — not with a million
in each stocking ? '
* I don't know. That's what I've been puzzling
over.'
1 So have I. We're as handsome a couple as
I've ever seen. Are you well off, lad ? '
' They call me so,' said Conroy, smiling.
' That's North country.' She laughed again.
' Setting aside my good looks and yours, I've four
thousand a year of my own, and the rents should
make it six. That's a match some old cats would
lap tea all night to fettle up.'
' It is. Lucky Toots ! ' said Conroy.
' Ay,' she answered, ' he'll be the luckiest lad
in London if I win through. Who's yours ? '
' No — no one, dear. I've been in Hell for years.
I only want to get out and be alive and — so on.
Isn't that reason enough ? '
' Maybe, for a man. But I never minded things
much till George came. I was all stu-upid like.'
IN THE SAME BOAT 95
' So was I, but now I think I can live. It
ought to be less next month, oughtn't it ? ' he said.
' I hope so. Ye-es. There's nothing much
for a maid except to be married, and / ask no
more. Whoever yours is, when you've found her,
she shall have a wedding present from Mrs. George
Skinner that '
' But she wouldn't understand it any more than
Toots.'
* He doesn't matter — except to me. I can't
keep my eyes open, thank God ! Good-night, lad.'
Conroy followed her with his eyes. Beauty
there was, grace there was, strength, and enough
of the rest to drive better men than George
Skinner to beat their heads on piano-tops — but
for the new-found life of him Conroy could not
feel one flutter of instinct or emotion that turned
to herward. He put up his feet and fell asleep,
dreaming of a joyous, normal world recovered —
with interest on arrears. There were many things
in it, but no one face of any one woman.
Thrice afterward they took the same train, and
each time their trouble shrank and weakened.
Miss Henschil talked of Toots, his multiplied
calls, the things he had said to his sisters, the
much worse things his sisters had replied ; of the
late (he seemed very dead to them) M. Najdol's
gifts for the soul-weary ; of shopping, of house
rents, and the cost of really artistic furniture and
linen.
Conroy explained the exercises in which he
delighted — mighty labours of play undertaken
96 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
against other mighty men, till he sweated and,
having bathed, slept. He had visited his mother,
too, in Hereford, and he talked something of her
and of the home-life, which his body, cut out of
all clean life for five years, innocently and deeply
enjoyed. Nurse Blaber was a little interested in
Conroy's mother, but, as a rule, she smoked her
cigarette and read her paper-backed novels in her
own compartment.
On their last trip she volunteered to sit with
them, and buried herself in The Cloister and the
Hearth while they whispered together. On that
occasion (it was near Salisbury) at two in the
morning, when the Lier-in-Wait brushed them
with his wing, it meant no more than that they
should cease talk for the instant, and for the
instant hold hands, as even utter strangers on the
deep may do when their ship rolls underfoot.
' But still,' said Nurse Blaber, not looking up,
' I think your Mr. Skinner might feel jealous of
all this.'
1 It would be difficult to explain,' said Conroy.
' Then you'd better not be at my wedding,'
Miss Henschil laughed.
* After all we've gone through, too. But I
suppose you ought to leave me out. Is the day
fixed ? ' he cried.
' Twenty-second of September — in spite of both
his sisters. I can risk it now.' Her face was
glorious as she flushed.
* My dear chap ! ' He shook hands unre-
servedly, and she gave back his grip without
flinching. ' I can't tell you how pleased I am ! '
IN THE SAME BOAT 97
' Gracious Heavens ! ' said Nurse Blaber, in a
new voice. ' Oh, I beg your pardon. I forgot
I wasn't paid to be surprised.'
c What at ? Oh, I see ! ' Miss Henschil ex-
plained to Conroy. 'She expected you were going
to kiss me, or I was going to kiss you, or
something.'
' After all you've gone through, as Mr. Conroy
said.'
1 But I couldn't, could you ? ' said Miss Henschil,
with a disgust as frank as that on Conroy's face.
' It would be horrible — horrible. And yet, of
course, you're wonderfully handsome. How d'you
account for it, Nursey ? '
Nurse Blaber shook her head. * I was hired to
cure you of a habit, dear. When you're cured I
shall go on to the next case — that senile-decay one
at Bournemouth I told you about.'
' And I shall be left alone with George ! But
suppose it isn't cured,' said Miss Henschil of a
sudden. ' Suppose it comes back again. What
can I do ? I can't send for him in this way when
I'm a married woman ! ' She pointed like an
infant.
' I'd come, of course,' Conroy answered. ' But,
seriously, that is a consideration.'
They looked at each other, alarmed and anxious,
and then toward Nurse Blaber, who closed her
book, marked the place, and turned to face them.
' Have you ever talked to your mother as you
have to me ? ' she said.
'No. I might have spoken to dad — but
mother's different. What d'you mean ? '
H
98 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
'And you've never talked to your mother
either, Mr. Conroy ? '
' Not till I took Najdolene. Then I told her it
was my heart. There's no need to say anything,
now that I'm practically over it, is there? '
'Not if it doesn't come back, but ' She
beckoned with a stumpy, triumphant finger that
drew their heads close together. ' You know I
always go in and read a chapter to mother at tea,
child.'
' I know you do. You're an angel.' Miss
Henschil patted the blue shoulder next her.
* Mother's Church of England now,' she explained.
' But she'll have her Bible with her pikelets at tea
every night like the Skinners.'
' It was Naaman and Gehazi last Tuesday that
gave me a clue. I said I'd never seen a case of
leprosy, and your mother said she'd seen too many.'
' Where ? She never told me,' Miss Henschil
began.
' A few months before you were born — on her
trip to Australia — at Mola or Molo something or
other. It took me three evenings to get it all
out.'
' Ay — mother's suspicious of questions,' said
Miss Henschil to Conroy. ' She'll lock the door
of every room she's in, if it's but for five minutes.
She was a Tackberry from Jarrow way, yo' see.'
' She described your men to the life — men with
faces all eaten away, staring at her over the fence
of a lepers' hospital in this Molo Island. They
begged from her, and she ran, she told me, all
down the street, back to the pier. One touched
IN THE SAME BOAT 99
her and she nearly fainted. She's ashamed of that
still.'
' My men ? The sand and the fences ? ' Miss
Henschil muttered.
' Yes. You know how tidy she is and how she
hates wind. She remembered that the fences were
broken — she remembered the wind blowing. Sand
— sun — salt wind — fences — faces — I got it all out
of her, bit by bit. You don't know what I know !
And it all happened three or four months before
you were born. There ! ' Nurse Blaber slapped
her knee with her little hand triumphantly.
1 Would that account for it? ' Miss Henschil
shook from head to foot.
' Absolutely. I don't care who you ask ! You
never imagined the thing. It was laid on you. It
happened on earth to you ! Quick, Mr. Conroy,
she's too heavy for me ! I'll get the flask.'
Miss Henschil leaned forward and collapsed, as
Conroy told her afterwards, like a factory chimney.
She came out of her swoon with teeth that chattered
on the cup.
'No — no,' she said, gulping. 'It's not hysterics.
Yo' see I've no call to hev 'em any more. No
call — no reason whatever. God be praised !
Can't yo' feel I'm a right woman now ? '
' Stop hugging me ! ' said Nurse Blaber. 'You
don't know your strength. Finish the brandy and
water. It's perfectly reasonable, and I'll Ir.y long
odds Mr. Conroy's case is something of the same.
I've been thinking '
' I wonder ' said Conroy, and pushed the
girl back as she swayed again.
ioo A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Nurse Blaber smoothed her pale hair. c Yes.
Your trouble, or something like it, happened some-
where on earth or sea to the mother who bore you.
Ask her, child. Ask her and be done with it once
for all.'
' I will,' said Conroy. . . . ' There ought to
be ' He opened his bag and hunted breath-
lessly.
' Bless you ! Oh, God bless you, Nursey ! '
Miss Henschil was sobbing. ' You don't know
what this means to me. It takes it all off — from
the beginning.'
' But doesn't it make any difference to you
now ? ' the nurse asked curiously. ' Now that
you're rightfully a woman ? '
Conroy, busy with his bag, had not heard.
Miss Henschil stared across, and her beauty,
freed from the shadow of any fear, blazed up
within her. ' I see what you mean,' she said.
'But it hasn't changed anything. I want Toots.
He has never been out of his mind in his life —
except over silly me.'
* It's all right/ said Conroy, stooping under
the lamp, Bradshaw in hand. ' If I change at
Templecombe — for Bristol (Bristol — Hereford —
yes) — I can be with mother for breakfast in her
room and find out.'
1 Quick, then,' said Nurse Blaber. ' We've
passed Gillingham quite a while. You'd better
take some of our sandwiches.' She went out to
get them. Conroy and Miss Henschil would have
danced, but there is no room for giants in a South-
western compartment.
IN THE SAME BOAT 101
' Good-bye, good luck, lad. Eh, but you've
changed already — like me. Send a wire to our
hotel as soon as you're sure,' said Miss Henschil.
' What should I have done without you ? '
' Or I ? ' said Conroy. ' But it's Nurse that's
saving us really.'
' Then thank her,' said Miss Henschil, looking
straight at him. ' Yes, I would. She'd like it.'
When Nurse Blaber came back after the
parting at Templecombe her nose and her eyelids
were red, but, for all that, her face reflected a great
light even while she sniffed over The Cloister and
the Hearth.
Miss Henschil, deep in a house furnisher's
catalogue, did not speak for twenty minutes.
Then she said, between adding totals of best,
guest, and servants' sheets, ' But why should
our times have been the same, Nursey ? '
' Because a child is born somewhere every
second of the clock,' Nurse Blaber answered.
' And besides that, you probably set each other
off by talking and thinking about it. You
shouldn't, you know.'
'Ay, but you've never been in Hell,' said Miss
Henschil.
The telegram handed in at Hereford at 12.46
and delivered to Miss Henschil on the beach of
a certain village at 2.7 ran thus :
' " Absolutely confirmed. She says she remembers
hearing noise of accident in engine-room returning
from India eighty-five." '
' He means the year, not the thermometer,' said
Nurse Blaber, throwing pebbles at the cold sea.
102 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' " And two men scalded thus explaining my
hoots." (The idea of telling me that ! ) " Sub-
sequently silly clergyman passenger ran up behind her
calling for joke j l Friend, all is lost,' thus accounting
very words." '
Nurse Blaber purred audibly.
* " She says only remembers being upset minute or
two. Unspeakable relief. Best love Nursey, who is
jewel. Get out of her what she would like best."
Oh, I oughtn't to have read that,' said Miss
Henschil.
1 It doesn't matter. I don't want anything,'
said Nurse Blaber, ' and if I did I shouldn't
get it.'
♦HELEN ALL ALONE'
There was darkness under Heaven
For an hour's space —
Darkness that we knew was given
Us for special grace.
Sun and moon and stars were hid,
God had left His Throne,
When Helen came to me, she did,
Helen all alone !
Side by side (because our fate
Damned us ere our birth)
We stole out of Limbo Gate
Looking for the Earth.
Hand in pulling hand amid
Fear no dreams have known,
Helen ran with me, she did,
Helen all alone !
When the Horror passing speech
Hunted us along,
Each laid hold on each, and each
Found the other strong.
103
104 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
In the teeth of things forbid
And Reason overthrown,
Helen stood by me, she did,
Helen all alone !
When, at last, we heard the Fires
Dull and die away,
When, at last, our linked desires
Dragged us up to day,
When, at last, our souls were rid
Of what that Night had shown,
Helen passed from me, she did,
Helen all alone !
Let her go and find a mate,
As I will find a bride,
Knowing naught of Limbo Gate
Or Who are penned inside.
There is knowledge God forbid
More than one should own.
So Helen went from me, she did,
Oh my soul, be glad she did !
Helen all alone !
The Honours of War
(i9n)
A hooded motor had followed mine from the
Guildford Road up the drive to The Infant's
ancestral hall, and had turned off to the stables.
' We're having a quiet evening together.
Stalky's upstairs changing. Dinner's at 7.15
sharp, because we're hungry. His room's next
to yours,' said The Infant, nursing a cobwebbed
bottle of Burgundy.
Then I found Lieutenant - Colonel A. L.
Corkran, I. A., who borrowed a collar-stud and
told me about the East and his Sikh regiment.
' And are your subalterns as good as ever ? ' I
asked.
* Amazin' — simply amazin' ! All I've got to
do is to find 'em jobs. Thev keep touchin' their
caps to me and askin' for more work. 'Come at
me with their tongues hangin' out. /used to run
the other way at their age.'
' And when they err ? ' said I. ' I suppose
they do sometimes ? '
' Then they run to me again to weep with
106 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
remorse over their virgin peccadilloes. I never
cuddled my Colonel when I was in trouble.
Lambs — positive lambs ! '
* And what do you say to 'em ? '
* Talk to 'em like a papa. Tell 'em how I
can't understand it, an' how shocked I am, and
how grieved their parents '11 be ; and throw in a
little about the Army Regulations and the Ten
Commandments. 'Makes one feel rather a sweep
when one thinks of what one used to do at their
age. D'you remember '
We remembered together till close on seven
o'clock. As we went out into the gallery that
runs round the big hall, we saw The Infant, below,
talking to two deferential well-set-up lads whom
I had known, on and off, in the holidays, any time
for the last ten years. One of them had a bruised
cheek, and the other a weeping left eye.
' Yes, that's the style,' said Stalky below his
breath. * They're brought up on lemon-squash
and mobilisation text-books. I say, the girls we
knew must have been much better than they pre-
tended they were ; for I'll swear it isn't the fathers.'
' But why on earth did you do it ? ' The
Infant was shouting. * You know what it means
nowadays.'
' Well, sir,' said Bobby Trivett, the taller of
the two, * Wontner talks too much, for one thing.
He didn't join till he was twenty-three, and,
besides that, he used to lecture on tactics in the
ante-room. He said Clausewitz was the only
tactician, and he illustrated his theories with cigar-
ends. He was that sort of chap, sir.'
THE HONOURS OF WAR 107
' And he didn't much care whose cigar-ends
they were,' said Eames, who was shorter and
pinker.
'And then he would talk about the 'Varsity,'
said Bobby. ' He got a degree there. And he
told us we weren't intellectual. He told the
Adjutant so, sir. He was just that kind of chap,
sir, if you understand.'
Stalky and I backed behind a tall Japanese jar
of chrysanthemums and listened more intently.
' Was all the Mess in it, or only you two ? '
The Infant demanded, chewing his moustache.
'The Adjutant went to bed, of course, sir,
and the Senior Subaltern said he wasn't going to
risk his commission — they're awfully down on
ragging nowadays in the Service — but the rest of
us — er — attended to him,' said Bobby.
' Much ? ' The Infant asked. The boys smiled
deprecatingly.
' Not in the ante-room, sir,' said Eames.
' Then he called us silly children, and went to bed,
and we sat up discussin', and I suppose we got a
bit above ourselves, and we — er '
' Went to his quarters and drew him ? ' The
Infant suggested.
* Wtll, we only asked him to get out of bed,
and we put his helmet and sword-belt on for him,
and we sung him bits out of the Blue Fairy Book
— the cram-book on Army organisation. Oh
yes, and then we asked him to drink old
Clausewitz's health, as a brother-tactician, in milk
punch and Worcester sauce, and so on. We had
to help him a little there. He bites. There
108 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
wasn't much else that time ; but, you know, the
War Office is severe on ragging these days.'
Bobby stopped with a lop-sided smile.
' And then,' Eames went on, * then Wontner
said we'd done several pounds' worth of damage
to his furniture.'
i Oh,' said The Infant, * he's that kind of man,
is he ? Does he brush his teeth ? '
' Oh yes, he's quite clean all over! ' said Trivett;
' but his father's a wealthy barrister.'
* Solicitor,' Eames corrected, ' and so this Mister
Wontner is out for our blood. He's going to
make a first-class row about it — appeal to the War
Office — court of inquiry — spicy bits in the papers,
and songs in the music-halls. He told us so.'
' That's the sort of chap he is,' said Trivett.
' And that means old Dhurrah-bags, our Colonel,
'II be put on half-pay, same as that case in the
Scarifungers' Mess ; and our Adjutant '11 have to
exchange, like it was with that fellow in the 73rd
Dragoons, and there'll be misery all round. He
means making it too hot for us, and his papa '11
back him.'
' Yes, that's all very fine,' said The Infant ; ' but
I left the Service about the time you were born,
Bobby. What's it got to do with me ? '
' Father told me I was always to go to you
when I was in trouble, and you've been awfully
good to me since he . . .'
* Better stay to dinner.' The Infant mopped
his forehead.
' Thank you very much, but the fact is '
Trivett halted.
THE HONOURS OF WAR 109
'This afternoon, about four, to be exact '
Eames broke in.
' We went over to Wontner's quarters to talk
things over. The row only happened last night, and
we found him writing letters as hard as he could to
his father — getting up his case for the War Office,
you know. He read us some of 'em, but I'm not
a good judge of style. We tried to ride him off
quietly — apologies and so forth — but it was the
milk-punch and mayonnaise that defeated us.'
' Yes, he wasn't taking anything except pure
revenge,' said Eames.
1 He said he'd make an example of the regiment,
and he was particularly glad that he'd landed our
Colonel. He told us so. Old Dhurrah-bags
don't sympathise with Wontner's tactical lectures.
He says Wontner ought to learn manners first,
but we thought ' Trivett turned to Eames,
who was less a son of the house than himself,
Eames' father being still alive.
* Then,' Eames went on, ' he became rather
noisome, and we thought we might as well im-
pound the correspondence' — he wrinkled his
swelled left eye — ' and after that, we got him to
take a seat in my car.'
' He was in a sack, you know,' Trivett ex-
plained. ' He wouldn't go any other way. But
we didn't hurt him.'
1 Oh no ! His head's sticking out quite clear,
and ' — Eames rushed the fence — ' we've put him
in your garage — er pendente lite?
* My garage ! ' Infant's voice nearly broke
with horror.
no A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* Well, father always told me if I was in
trouble, Uncle George '
Bobby's sentence died away as The Infant
collapsed on a divan and said no more than,
' Your commissions ! ' There was a long, long
silence.
* What price your latter-day lime-juice sub-
altern?' I whispered to Stalky behind my hand.
His nostrils expanded, and he drummed on the
edge of the Japanese jar with his knuckles.
' Confound your father, Bobby ! ' The Infant
groaned. ' Raggin's a criminal offence these days.
It isn't as if '
1 Come on,' said Stalky. ' That was my old
Line battalion in Egypt. They nearly slung old
Dhurrah-bags and me out of the Service in '85 for
ragging.' He descended the stairs and The
Infant rolled appealing eyes at him.
' I heard what you youngsters have confessed,'
he began ; and in his orderly-room voice, which
is almost as musical as his singing one, he tongue-
lashed those lads in such sort as was a privilege
and a revelation to listen to. Till then they had
known him almost as a relative — we were all
brevet, deputy, or acting uncles to The Infant's
friends' brood — a sympathetic elder brother, sound
on finance. They had never met Colonel A. L.
Corkran in the Chair of Justice. And while he
flayed and rent and blistered, and wiped the floor
with them, and while they looked for hiding-places
and found none on that floor, I remembered (1)
the up-ending of ' Dolly ' Macshane at Dalhousie,
which came perilously near a court-martial on
THE HONOURS OF WAR in
Second-Lieutenant Corkran ; (2) the burning of
Captain Parmilee's mosquito-curtains on a hot
Indian dawn, when the captain slept in his garden,
and Lieutenant Corkran, smoking, rode by after
a successful whist night at the club ; (3) the
introduction of an ekka pony, with ekka attached,
into a brother captain's tent on a frosty night in
Peshawur, and the removal of tent, pole, cot, and
captain all wrapped in chilly canvas ; (4) the
bath that was given to Elliot-Hacker on his own
verandah — his lady-love saw it and broke ofF the
engagement, which was what the Mess intended,
she being an Eurasian — and the powdering all
over of Elliot-Hacker with flour and turmeric
from the bazaar.
When he took breath I realised how only
Satan can rebuke sin. The good don't know
enough.
* Now,' said Stalky, ' get out ! No, not out of
the house. Go to your rooms.'
' 1 11 send your dinner, Bobby,' said The Infant.
< Ipr s ! '
Nothing had ever been known to astonish Ipps,
the butler. He entered and withdrew with his
charges. After all, he had suffered from Bobby
since Bobby's twelfth year.
4 They've done everything thev could, short of
murder,' said The Infant. ' You know what
this'll mean for the regiment. It isn't as if we
were dealing with Sahibs nowadays.'
' Quite so.' Stalky turned on me. ' Go and
release the bagman,' he said.
* 'Tisn't my garage,' I pleaded. ' I'm company.
ii2 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Besides, he'll probably slay me. He's been in the
sack for hours.'
' Look here,' Stalky thundered — the years had
fallen from us both — ' is your — am I commandin'
or are you? We've got to pull this thing off
somehow or other. Cut over to the garage, make
much of him, and bring him over. He's dining
with us. Be quick, you dithering ass ! '
I was quick enough ; but as I ran through the
shrubbery I wondered how one extricates the
subaltern of the present day from a sack without
hurting his feelings. Anciently, one slit the end
open, taking off his boots first, and then fled.
Imagine a sumptuously-equipped garage, half-
filled by The Infant's cobalt-blue, grey-corded
silk limousine and a mud-splashed, cheap, hooded
four-seater. In the back-seat of this last, conceive
a fiery chestnut head emerging from a long oat-
sack ; an implacable white face, with blazing eyes
and jaws that worked ceaselessly at the loop of the
string that was drawn round its neck. The effect,
under the electrics, was that of a demon caterpillar
wrathfully spinning its own cocoon.
' Good evening ! ' I said genially. ' Let me
help you out of that.' The head glared. * We've
got 'em,' I went on. ' They came to quite the
wrong shop for this sort of game — quite the wrong
shop.'
' Game ! ' said the head. ' We'll see about
that. Let me out.'
It was not a promising voice for one so young,
and, as usual, I had no knife.
'You've chewed the string so I can't find the
THE HONOURS OF WAR 113
knot,' I said as I worked with trembling fingers
at the caterpillar's throat. Something untied itself,
and Mr. Wontner wriggled out, collarless, tieless,
his coat split half down his back, his waistcoat
unbuttoned, his watch-chain snapped, his trousers
rucked well above the knees.
' Where,' he said grimly, as he pulled them
down, ' are Master Trivett and Master Eames ? '
1 Both arrested, of course,' I replied. ' Sir
George ' — I gave The Infant's full title as a baronet
— c is a Justice of the Peace. He'd be very
pleased if you dined with us. There's a room
ready for you.' I picked up the sack.
' D'you know,' said Mr. Wontner through his
teeth — but the car's bonnet was between us, i that
this looks to me like — I won't say conspiracy yet^
but uncommonly like a confederacy.'
When injured souls begin to distinguish and
qualify, danger is over. So I grew bold.
' 'Sorry you take it that way,' I said. ' You
come here in trouble '
1 My good fool,' he interrupted, with a half-
hysterical snort, ' let me assure you that the trouble
will recoil on the other men ! '
' As you please,' I went on. * Anyhow, the
chaps who got you into trouble are arrested,
and the magistrate who arrested 'em asks you to
dinner. Shall I tell him you're walking back to
Aldershot ? '
He picked some fluff off his waistcoat.
1 I'm in no position to dictate terms yet,' he
said. ' That will come later. I must probe into
this a little further. In the meantime, I accept
1
1 14 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
your invitation without prejudice — if you under-
stand what that means.'
I understood and began to be happy again.
Subalterns without prejudices were quite new
to me. ' All right,' I replied ; ' if you'll go up
to the house, I'll turn out the lights.'
He walked off stiffly, while I searched the
sack and the car for the impounded correspond-
ence that Bobby had talked of. I found nothing
except, as the police reports say, the trace of a
struggle. He had kicked half the varnish off the
back of the front seat, and had bitten the leather
padding where he could reach it. Evidently a
purposeful and hard-mouthed young gentleman.
• Well done ! ' said Stalky at the door. * So he
didn't slay you. Stop laughing. He's talking to
The Infant now about depositions. Look here,
you're nearest his size. Cut up to your rooms
and give Ipps your dinner things and a clean shirt
for him.'
1 But I haven't got another suit,' I said.
' You ! I'm not thinking of you ! We've got
to conciliate him. He's in filthy rags and a filthy
temper, and he won't feel decent till he's dressed.
You're the sacrifice. Be quick ! And clean socks,
remember ! '
Once more I trotted up to my room, changed
into unseasonable unbrushed grey tweeds, put studs
into a clean shirt, dug out fresh socks, handed the
whole garniture over to Ipps, and returned to
the hall just in time to hear Stalky say, ' I'm a
stockbroker, but I have the honour to hold His
Majesty's commission in a Territorial battalion.'
THE HONOURS OF WAR 115
Then I felt as though I might be beginning to be
repaid.
' 1 have a very high opinion of the Territorials
myself,' said Mr. Wontner above a glass of sherry.
(Infant never lets us put bitters into anything
above twenty years old.) * But if you had any
experience of the Service, you would find that the
Average Army Man '
Here The Infant suggested changing, and
Ipps, before whom no human passion can assert
itself, led Mr. Wontner away.
* Why the devil did you tell him I was on the
Bench ? ' said Infant wrathfully to me. ' You
know I ain't now. Why didn't he stay in his
father's office ? He's a raging blight ! '
' Not a bit of it,' said Stalky cheerfully. ' He's
a little shaken and excited. Probably Beetle
annoyed him in the garage, but we must overlook
that. We've contained him so far, and I'm going
to nibble round his outposts at dinner. All
you've got to do, Infant, is to remember you're
a gentleman in your own house. Don't hop !
You'll find it pretty difficult before dinner's over.
I don't want to hear anything at all from you,
Beetle.'
'But I'm just beginning to like him,' I said.
' Do let me play ! '
' Not till I ask you. You'll overdo it. Poor
old Dhurrah-bags ! A scandal 'ud break him up ! '
1 But as long as a regiment has no say as to
who joins it, it's bound to rag,' Infant began.
' Why — why, they varnished me when I joined ! '
He squirmed at the thought of it.
n6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
'Don't be owls ! We ain't discussing principles !
We've got to save the court of inquiry if we can,'
said Stalky.
Five minutes later — at 7.45 to be precise— we
four sat down to such a dinner as, I hold, only
The Infant's cook can produce, with wines worthy
of pontifical banquets. A man in the extremity
of rage and injured dignity is precisely like a
typhoid patient. He asks no questions, accepts
what is put before him, and babbles in one key —
very often of trifles. But food and drink are the
very best of drugs. I think it was Heidsieck
Dry Monopole '92 — Stalky as usual stuck to
Burgundy — that began to unlock Mr. Wontner's
heart behind my shirt-front. Me he snubbed
throughout, after the Oxford manner, because I
had seen him in the sack, and he did not intend
me to presume ; but to Stalky and The Infant,
while I admired the set of my dinner-jacket across
his shoulders, he made his plans of revenge very
clear indeed. He had even sketched out some of
the paragraphs that were to appear in the papers,
and if Stalky had allowed me to speak, I would
have told him that they were rather neatly phrased.
1 You ought to be able to get whackin' damages
out of 'em, into the bargain,' said Stalky, after
Mr. Wontner had outlined his position legally.
' My de-ah sir,' Mr. Wontner applied himself
to his glass, ' it isn't a matter that gentlemen
usually discuss, but, I assure you, we Wontners ' —
he waved a well-kept hand — ' do not stand in any
need of filthy lucre.' In the next three minutes,
we learned exactly what his father was worth,
THE HONOURS OF WAR 117
which, as he pointed out, was a trifle no man of
the world dwelt on. Stalky envied aloud, and I
delivered my first kick at The Infant's ankle.
Thence we drifted to education, and the Average
Army Man, and the desolating vacuity — I re-
member these words — of Army Society, notably
among its womenkind. It appeared there was
some sort of narrow convention in the Army
against mentioning a woman's name at Mess. We
were much surprised at this — Stalky would not
let me express my surprise — but we took it from
Mr. Wontner, who said we might, that it was
so. Next he touched on Colonels of the old
school, and their cognisance of tactics. Not that
he himself pretended to any skill in tactics, but
after three years at the 'Varsity — none of us had
had a 'Varsity education — a man insensibly con-
tracted the habit of clear thinking. At least, he
could automatically co-ordinate his ideas, and the
jealousy of these muddle-headed Colonels was in-
conceivable. We would understand that it was
his duty to force on the retirement of his Colonel,
who had been in the conspiracy against him ; to
make his Adjutant resign or exchange ; and to
give the half-dozen childish subalterns who had
vexed his dignity a chance to retrieve themselves
in other corps — West African ones, he hoped.
For himself, after the case was decided, he pro-
posed to go on living in the regiment, just to
prove — for he bore no malice — that times had
changed, nosque mutamur in Mis — if we knew what
that meant. Infant had curled his legs out of
reach, so I was quite free to return thanks yet
n8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
once more to Allah for the diversity of His
creatures in His adorable world.
And so, by way of an eighty-year-old liqueur
brandy, to tactics and the great General Clausewitz,
unknown to the Average Army Man. Here The
Infant, at a whisper from Ipps — whose face had
darkened like a mulberry while he waited — ex-
cused himself and went away, but Stalky, Colonel
of Territorials, wanted some tips on tactics. He
got them unbrokenly for ten minutes — Wontner
and Clausewitz mixed, but Wontner in a film of
priceless cognac distinctly on top. When The
Infant came back, he renewed his clear-spoken
demand that Infant should take his depositions.
I supposed this to be a family trait of the
Wontners, whom I had been visualising for some
time past even to the third generation.
1 But, hang it all, they're both asleep ! ' said
Infant, scowling at me. * Ipps let 'em have the
'8 1 port.'
* Asleep ! ' said Stalky, rising at once. ' I don't
see that makes any difference. As a matter of
form, you'd better identify them. I'll show you
the way.'
We followed up the white stone side-staircase
that leads to the bachelors' wing. Mr. Wontner
seemed surprised that the boys were not in the
coal-cellar.
' Oh, a chap's assumed to be innocent until he's
proved guilty,' said Stalky, mounting step by step.
* How did they get you into the sack, Mr.
Wontner ? '
' Jumped on me from behind — two to one,' said
THE HONOURS OF WAR 119
Mr. Wontncr briefly. ' I think I handed each of
them something first, but they roped my arms and
legs.'
1 And did they photograph you in the sack ? '
1 Good Heavens, no ! ' Mr. Wontner shuddered.
c That's lucky. Awful thing to live down — a
photograph, isn't it ? ' said Stalky to me as we
reached the landing. ' I'm thinking of the news-
papers, of course.'
' Oh, but you can easily have sketches in the
illustrated papers from accounts supplied by eye-
witnesses,' I said.
Mr. Wontner turned him round. It was the
first time he had honoured me by his notice since
our talk in the garage.
' Ah/ said he, ' do you pretend to any special
knowledge in these matters ? '
1 I'm a journalist by profession,' I answered
simply but nobly. * As soon as you're at liberty,
I'd like to have your account of the affair.'
Now I thought he would have loved me for
this, but he only replied in an uncomfortable, un-
coming-on voice, ' Oh, you would, would you ? '
* Not if it's any trouble, of course,' I said. * I
can always get their version from the defendants.
Do either of 'em draw or sketch at all, Mr.
Wontner ? Or perhaps your father might '
Then he said quite hotly, ' I wish you to
understand very clearly, my good man, that a
gentleman's name can't be dragged through the
gutter to bolster up the circulation of your wretched
sheet, whatever it may be.'
* It is ' I named a journal of enormous
120 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
sales which specialises in scholastic, military, and
other scandals. ' I don't know yet what it can't
do, Mr. Wontner.'
' I didn't know that I was dealing with a re-
porter,' said Mr. Wontner.
We were all halted outside a shut door. Ipps
had followed us.
'But surely you want it in the papers, don't
you ? ' I urged. ' With a scandal like this, one
couldn't, in justice to the democracy, be exclusive.
We'd syndicate it here and in the United States.
I helped you out of the sack, if you remember.'
' I wish to goodness you'd stop talking ! ' he
snapped, and sat down on a chair. Stalky's hand
on my shoulder quietly signalled me out of action,
but I felt that my fire had not been misdirected.
1 I'll answer for him,' said Stalky to Wontner,
in an undertone that dropped to a whisper. I
caught — * Not without my leave — dependent on
me for market-tips,' and other gratifying tributes
to my integrity.
Still Mr. Wontner sat in his chair, and still we
waited on him. The Infant's face showed worry
and heavy grief; Stalky's, a bright and bird-like
interest ; mine was hidden behind his shoulders,
but on the face of Ipps were written emotions that
no butler should cherish towards any guest. Con-
tempt and wrath were the least of them. And
Mr. Wontner was looking full at Ipps, as Ipps was
looking at him. Mr. Wontner's father, I under-
stood, kept a butler and two footmen.
' D'you suppose they're shamming, in order to
get off? ' he said at last. Ipps shook his head and
THE HONOURS OF WAR 121
noiselessly threw the door open. The boys had
finished their dinner and were fast asleep — one on
a sofa, one in a long chair — their faces fallen back
to the lines of their childhood. They had had a
wildish night, a hard day, that ended with a telling-
off from an artist, and the assurance they had
wrecked their prospects for life. What else should
youth do, then, but eat, and drink '81 port, and
remember their sorrows no more ?
Mr. Wontner looked at them severely, Ipps
within easy reach, his hands quite ready. ' Childish,'
said Mr. Wontner at last. * Childish but necessary.
Er — have you such, a thing as a rope on the
premises, and a sack — two sacks and two ropes ?
I'm afraid I can't resist the temptation. That man
understands, doesn't he, that this is a private
matter ? '
' That man,' who was me, was off to the base-
ment like one of Infant's own fallow-deer. The
stables gave me what I wanted, and coming back
with it through a dark passage, I ran squarely into
Ipps. ' Go on ! ' he grunted. * The minute he
lays hands on Master Bobby, Master Bobby's saved.
But that person ought to be told how near he came
to being assaulted. It was touch-and-go with me
all the time from the soup down, I assure you.'
I arrived breathless with the sacks and the ropes.
' They were two to one with me,' said Mr.
Wontner, as he took them. ' If they wake '
1 We'll stand by,' Stalky replied. ' Two to
one is quite fair.'
But the boys hardly grunted as Mr. Wontner
roped first one and then the other. Even when
122 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
they were slid into the sacks they only mumbled,
with rolling heads, through sticky lips and snored on.
* Port ? ' said Mr. Wontner virtuously.
* Nervous exhaustion. They aren't much more
than kids, after all. What's next ? ' said Stalky.
' I want to take 'em away with me, please.'
Stalky looked at him with respect.
* I'll have my car round in five minutes,' said
The Infant. ' Ipps'll help carry 'em downstairs,'
and he shook Mr. Wontner by the hand.
We were all perfectly serious till the two bundles
were dumped on a divan in the hall, and the boys
waked and began to realise what had happened.
' Yah ! ' said Mr. Wontner, with the simplicity
of twelve years old. ' Who's scored now ? ' And
he sat upon them. The tension broke in a storm
of laughter, led, I think, by Ipps.
'Asinine — absolutely asinine ! ' said Mr. Wontner,
with folded arms from his lively chair. But he
drank in the flattery and the fellowship of it all
with quite a brainless grin, as we rolled and
stamped round him, and wiped the tears from our
cheeks.
' Hang it ! ' said Bobby Trivett. * We're
defeated ! '
* By tactics, too,' said Eames. ' I didn't think
you knew 'em, Clausewitz. It's a fair score.
What are you going to do with us ? '
* Take you back to Mess,' said Mr. Wontner.
' Not like this ? '
1 Oh no. Worse — much worse ! I haven't
begun with you yet. And you thought you'd
scored ! Yah ! '
THE HONOURS OF WAR 123
They had scored beyond their wildest dream.
The man in whose hands it lay to shame them,
their Colonel, their Adjutant, their Regiment, and
their Service, had cast away all shadow of his
legal rights for the sake of a common or bear-
garden rag — such a rag as if it came to the ears
of the authorities, would cost him his commission.
They were saved, and their saviour was their
equal and their brother. So they chaffed and
reviled him as such till he again squashed the
breath out of them, and we others laughed louder
than they.
* Fall in ! ' said Stalky when the limousine
came round. ' This is the score of the century.
I wouldn't miss it for a brigade ! We shan't be
long, Infant ! '
I hurried into a coat.
' Is there any necessity for that reporter-chap
to come too ? ' said Mr. Wontner in an unguarded
whisper. ' He isn't dressed for one thing.'
Bobby and Eames wriggled round to look at
the reporter, began a joyous bellow, and suddenly
stopped.
• What's the matter ? ' said Wontner with sus-
picion.
' Nothing,' said Bobby. ' I die happy, Clause-
witz. Take me up tenderly.'
We packed into the car, bearing our sheaves
with us, and for half an hour, as the cool night-
air fanned his thoughtful brow, Mr. Wontner was
quite abreast of himself. Though he said nothing
unworthy, he triumphed and trumpeted a little
loudly over the sacks. I sat between them on the
i24 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
back seat, and applauded him servilely till he re-
minded me that what I had seen and what he had
said was not for publication. I hinted, while the
boys plunged with joy inside their trappings, that
this might be a matter for arrangement. ' Then
a sovereign shan't part us,' said Mr. Wontner
cheerily, and both boys fell into lively hysterics.
' I don't see where the joke comes in for you,' said
Mr. Wontner. ' I thought it was my little jokelet
to-night.'
' No, Clausewitz,' gasped Bobby. ' Some is,
but not all. I'll be good now. I'll give you my
parole till we get to Mess. 1 wouldn't be out of
this for a fiver.'
' Nor me,' said Eames, and he gave his parole
to attempt no escape or evasion.
' Now, I suppose,' said Mr. Wontner largely
to Stalky, as we neared the suburbs of Ash, ' you
have a good deal of practical joking on the Stock
Exchange, haven't you ? '
' And when were you on the Stock Exchange,
Uncle Leonard?' piped Bobby, while Eames laid
his sobbing head on my shoulder.
' I'm sorry,' said Stalky, ' but the fact is, I
command a regiment myself when I'm at home.
Your Colonel knows me, I think.' He gave his
name. Mr. Wontner seemed to have heard of it.
We had to pick Eames off the floor, where he had
cast himself from excess of delight.
' Oh, Heavens ! ' said Mr. Wontner after a
long pause. ' What have I done ? What haven't
I done ? ' We felt the temperature in the car rise
as he blushed.
THE HONOURS OF WAR 125
' You didn't talk tactics, Clausewitz ? ' said
Bobby. * Oh, say it wasn't tactics, darling ! '
* It was,' said Wontner.
Eames was all among our feet again, crying,
1 If you don't let me get my arms up, I'll be sick.
Let's hear what you said. Tell us.'
But Mr. Wonter turned to Stalky. * It's no
good my begging your pardon, sir, I suppose,' he
said.
' Don't you notice 'em,' said Stalky. ' It was a
fair rag all round, and anyhow, you two youngsters
haven't any right to talk tactics. You've been
rolled up, horse, foot, and guns.'
1 I'll make a treaty. If you'll let us go and
change presently,' said Bobby, ' I'll promise we
won't tell about you, Clausewitz. Tou talked
tactics to Uncle Len ? Old Dhurrah-bags will
like that. He don't love you, Claus.'
* If I've made one ass of myself, I shall take
extra care to make asses of you ! ' said Wontner.
* I want to stop, please, at the next milliner's shop
on the right. It ought to be close here.'
He evidently knew the country even in the
dark, for the car stopped at a brilliantly-lighted
millinery establishment, where — it was Saturday
evening — a young lady was clearing up the
counter. I followed him, as a good reporter
should.
' Have you got ' he began. ' Ah, those'll
do ! ' He pointed to two hairy plush beehive
bonnets, one magenta, the other a conscientious
electric blue. ' How much, please ? I'll take
them both, and that bunch of peacock feathers,
126 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
and that red feather thing.' It was a brilliant
crimson-dyed pigeon's wing.
1 Now I want some yards of muslin with a nice,
fierce pattern, please.' He got it — yellow with
black tulips — and returned heavily laden.
' Sorry to have kept you,' said he. l Now we'll
go to my quarters to change and beautify.'
We came to them — opposite a dun waste of
parade-ground that might have been Mian Mir —
and bugles as they blew and drums as they rolled
set heart-strings echoing.
We hoisted the boys out and arranged them
on chairs, while Wontner changed into uniform,
but stopped when he saw me taking off my
jacket.
' What on earth's that for f ' said he.
' Because you've been wearing my evening
things,' I said. ' I want to get into 'em again, if
you don't mind.'
' Then you aren't a reporter ? ' he said.
' No,' I said, ' but that shan't part us.'
' Oh, hurry ! ' cried Eames in desperate con-
vulsions. * We can't stand this much longer.
'Tisn't fair on the young.'
* I'll attend to you in good time,' said Wontner ;
and when he had made careful toilet, he unwrapped
the bonnets, put the peacock's feather into the
magenta one, pinned the crimson wing on the blue
one, set them daintily on the boys' heads, and
bade them admire the effect in his shaving-glass
while he ripped the muslin into lengths, bound it
first, and draped it artistically afterwards a little
below their knees. He finished off with a gigantic
THE HONOURS OF WAR 127
sash-bow, obi fashion. ' Hobble skirts,' he ex-
plained to Stalky, who nodded approval.
Next he split open the bottom of each sack so
that they could walk, but with very short steps.
* I ought to have got you white satin slippers,' he
murmured, 'and I'm sorry there's no rouge.'
' Don't worry on our account, old man — you're
doing us proud,' said Bobby from under his hat.
' This beats milk-punch and mayonnaise.'
' Oh, why didn't we think of these things
when we had him at our mercy ? ' Eames wailed.
1 Never mind — we'll try it on the next chap.
You've a mind, Claus.'
' Now we'll call on 'em at Mess,' said Wontner,
as they minced towards the door.
' I think I'll call on your Colonel,' said Stalky.
' He oughtn't to miss this. Your first attempt ?
I assure you I couldn't have done it better myself.
Thank you ! ' He held out his hand.
* Thank you> sir ! ' said Wontner, shaking it.
' I'm more grateful to you than I can say, and —
and I'd like you to believe some time that I'm not
quite as big a '
' Not in the least,' Stalky interrupted. * If I
were writing a confidential report on you, I should
put you down as rather adequate. Look after
your geishas, or they'll fall ! '
We watched the three cross the road and dis-
appear into the shadow of the mess verandah.
There was a noise. Then telephone bells rang, a
sergeant and a mess waiter charged out, and the
noise grew, till at last the Mess was a little noisy.
We came back, ten minutes later, with Colonel
128 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Dalziell, who had been taking his sorrows to bed
with him. The ante-room was quite full and
visitors were still arriving, but it was possible to
hear oneself speak occasionally. Trivett and
Eames, in sack and sash, sat side by side on a
table, their hats at a ravishing angle, coquettishly
twiddling their tied feet. In the intervals of sing-
ing ' Put Me Among the Girls,' they sipped whisky-
and-soda held to their lips by, I regret to say, a
Major. Public opinion seemed to be against
allowing them to change their costume till they
should have danced in it. Wontner, lying more
or less gracefully at the level of the chandelier in
the arms of six subalterns, was lecturing on tactics
and imploring to be let down, which he was with
a run when they realised that the Colonel was
there. Then he picked himself up from the sofa
and said : c I want to apologise, sir, to you and
the Mess for having been such an ass ever since I
joined ! '
This was when the noise began.
Seeing the night promised to be wet, Stalky
and I went home again in The Infant's car. It was
some time since we had tasted the hot air that lies
between the cornice and the ceiling of crowded
rooms.
After half an hour's silence, Stalky said to me :
' I don't know what you've been doing, but I
believe I've been weepin'. Would you put that
down to Burgundy or senile decay ? '
THE CHILDREN
These were our children who died for our lands :
they were dear in our sight.
We have only the. memory left of their home-
treasured sayings and laughter.
The price of our loss shall be paid to our hands,
not another's hereafter.
Neither the Alien nor Priest shall decide on it.
That is our right.
But who shall return us the children ?
At the hour the Barbarian chose to disclose his
pretences,
And raged against Man, they engaged, on the
breasts that they bared for us,
The first felon-stroke of the sword he had
long-time prepared for us —
Their bodies were all our defence while we
wrought our defences.
They bought us anew with their blood, forbearing
to blame us,
Those hours which we had not made good when
the Judgment o'ercame us.
129 k.
130 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
They believed us and perished for it. Our state-
craft, our learning
Delivered them bound to the Pit and alive to the
burning
Whither they mirthfully hastened as jostling for
honour.
Not since her birth has our Earth seen such
worth loosed upon her.
Nor was their agony brief, or once only imposed
on them.
The wounded, the war-spent, the sick received
no exemption :
Being cured they returned and endured and
achieved our redemption,
Hopeless themselves of relief, till Death, marvelling,
closed on them.
That flesh we had nursed from the first in all
cleanness was given
To corruption unveiled and assailed by the malice
of Heaven —
By the heart-shaking jests of Decay where it lolled
on the wires —
To be blanched or gay-painted by fumes — to be
cindered by fires —
To be senselessly tossed and retossed in stale
mutilation
From crater to crater. For this we shall take
expiation.
But who shall return us our children t
The Dog Hervey
(April 1 9 14)
My friend Attley, who v/ould give away his own
head if you told him you had lost yours, was
giving away a six-months-old litter of Bettina's
pups, and half-a-dozen women were in raptures at
the show on Mittleham lawn.
We picked by lot. Mrs. Godfrey drew first
choice ; her married daughter, second. I was
third, but waived my right because I was already
owned by Malachi, Bettina's full brother, whom I
had brought over in the car to visit his nephews
and nieces, and he would have slain them all if
I had taken home one. Milly, Mrs. Godfrey's
younger daughter, pounced on my rejection with
squeals of delight, and Attley turned to a dark,
sallow-skinned, slack-mouthed girl, who had come
over for tennis, and invited her to pick. She put
on a pair of pince-nez that made her look like a
camel, knelt clumsily, for she was long from the
hip to the knee, breathed hard, and considered the
last couple.
* I think I'd like that sandy-pied one,' she said.
131
132 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Oh, not him, Miss Sichliffe ! ' Attley cried.
' He was overlaid or had sunstroke or something.
They call him The Looney in the kennels. Be-
sides, he squints.'
' I think that's rather fetching,' she answered.
Neither Malachi nor I had ever seen a squinting
dog before.
'That's chorea — St. Vitus's dance,' Mrs. Godfrey
put in. ' He ought to have been drowned.'
' But I like his cast of countenance,' the girl
persisted.
' He doesn't look a good life,' I said, ' but per-
haps he can be patched up.' Miss Sichliffe turned
crimson ; I saw Mrs. Godfrey exchange a glance
with her married daughter, and knew I had said
something which would have to be lived down.
' Yes,' Miss Sichliffe went on, her voice shaking,
' he isn't a good life, but perhaps I can — patch
him up. Come here, sir.' The misshapen beast
lurched toward her, squinting down his own nose
till he fell over his own toes. Then, luckily,
Bettina ran across the lawn and reminded Malachi
of their puppyhood. All that family are as queer
as Dick's hatband, and fight like man and wife. I
had to separate them, and Mrs. Godfrey helped
me till they retired under the rhododendrons and
had it out in silence.
1 D'you know what that girl's father was ? '
Mrs. Godfrey asked.
' No,' I replied. ' I loathe her for her own sake.
She breathes through her mouth.'
' He was a retired doctor,' she explained. ' He
used to pick up stormy young men in the repentant
THE DOG HERVEY 133
stage, take them home, and patch them up till they
were sound enough to be insured. Then he insured
them heavily, and let them out into the world
again — with an appetite. Of course, no one knew
him while he was alive, but he left pots of money
to his daughter.'
' Strictly legitimate — highly respectable,' I said.
' But what a life for the daughter ! '
* Mustn't it have been ! Now d'you realise what
you said just now ? '
* Perfectly ; and now you've made me quite
happy, shall we go back to the house ? '
When we reached it they were all inside, sitting
on committee of names.
* What shall you call yours ? ' I heard Milly ask
Miss Sichliffe.
1 Harvey,' she replied — ' Harvey's Sauce, you
know. He's going to be quite saucy when I've '
— she saw Mrs. Godfrey and me coming through
the French window — ' when he's stronger.'
Attley, the well-meaning man, to make me feel
at ease, asked what I thought of the name.
* Oh, splendid,' I said at random. ' H with an
A, A with an R, R with a '
' But that's Little Bingo,' some one said, and
they all laughed.
Miss Sichliffe, her hands joined across her long
knees, drawled, c You ought always to verify your
quotations.'
It was not a kindly thrust, but something in the
word ' quotation ' set the automatic side of my
brain at work on some shadow of a word or phrase
that kept itself out of memory's reach as a cat sits
134 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
just beyond a dog's jump. When I was going
home, Miss Sichliffe came up to me in the twilight,
the pup on a leash, swinging her big shoes at the
end of her tennis-racket.
' 'Sorry,' she said in her thick schoolboy-like
voice. ' I'm sorry for what I said to you about
verifying quotations. I didn't know you well
enough and — anyhow, I oughtn't to have.'
' But you were quite right about Little Bingo,'
I answered. * The spelling ought to have re-
minded me.'
' Yes, of course. It's the spelling,' she said,
and slouched off with the pup sliding after her.
Once again my brain began to worry after some-
thing that would have meant something if it had
been properly spelled. I confided my trouble to
Malachi on the way home, but Bettina had bitten
him in four places, and he was busy.
Weeks later, Attley came over to see me, and
before his car stopped Malachi let me know that
Bettina was sitting beside the chauffeur. He
greeted her by the scruff of the neck as she
hopped down ; and I greeted Mrs. Godfrey,
Attley, and a big basket.
' You've got to help me,' said Attley tiredly.
We took the basket into the garden, and there
staggered out the angular shadow of a sandy-
pied, broken-haired terrier, with one imbecile and
one delirious ear, and two most hideous squints.
Bettina and Malachi, already at grips on the lawn,
saw him, let go, and fled in opposite directions.
1 Why have you brought that fetid hound
here ? ' I demanded.
THE DOG HERVEY
*35
' Harvey ? For you to take care of,' said Attley.
* He's had distemper, but i'm going abroad.'
' Take him with you. I won't have him.
He's mentally afflicted.'
* Look here,' Attley almost shouted, ' do I
strike you as a fool ? '
' Always,' said I.
* Well, then, if you say so, and Ella says so,
that proves I ought to go abroad.'
' Will's wrong, quite wrong,' Mrs. Godfrey
interrupted ; ' but you must take the pup.'
* My dear boy, my dear boy, don't you ever
give anything to a woman,' Attley snorted.
Bit by bit I got the story out of them in the
quiet garden (never a sign from Bettina and
Malachi), while Harvey stared me out of coun-
tenance, first with one cuttlefish eye and then with
the other.
It appeared that, a month after Miss Sichliffe
took him, the dog Harvey developed distemper.
Miss Sichliffe had nursed him herself for some
time ; then she carried him in her arms the two
miles to Mittleham, and wept — actually wept —
at Attley's feet, saying that Harvey was all she
had or expected to have in this world, and Attley
must cure him. Attley, being by wealth, position,
and temperament guardian to all lame dogs, had
put everything aside for this unsavoury job, and,
he asserted, Miss Sichliffe had virtually lived with
him ever since.
1 She went home at night, of course,' he ex-
ploded, ' but the rest of the time she simply in-
fested the premises. Goodness knows, I'm not
136 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
particular, but it was a scandal. Even the
servants ! . . . Three and four times a day, and
notes in between, to know how the beast was.
Hang it all, don't laugh ! And wanting to send
me flowers and goldfish. Do I look as if I wanted
goldfish ? Can't you two stop for a minute ? '
(Mrs. Godfrey and I were clinging to each other
for support.) ' And it isn't as if I was — was so
alluring a personality, is it ? '
Attley commands more trust, goodwill, and
affection than most men, for he is that rare angel,
an absolutely unselfish bachelor, content to be run
by contending syndicates of zealous friends. His
situation seemed desperate, and I told him so.
* Instant flight is your only remedy,' was my
verdict. ' I'll take care of both your cars while
you're away, and you can send me over all the
greenhouse fruit.'
' But why should I be chased out of my house
by a she-dromedary ? ' he wailed.
1 Oh, stop ! Stop ! ' Mrs. Godfrey sobbed.
' You're both wrong. I admit you're right, but
I know you're wrong.'
* Three and four times a day,' said Attley, with
an awful countenance. ' I'm not a vain man, but
— look here, Ella, I'm not sensitive, I hope, but
if you persist in making a joke of it '
' Oh, be quiet ! ' she almost shrieked. ' D'you
imagine for one instant that your friends would
ever let Mittleham pass out of their hands? I
quite agree it is unseemly for a grown girl to
come to Mittleham at all hours of the day and
night '
THE DOG HERVEY 137
1 1 told you she went home o' nights,' Attley
growled.
' Specially if she goes home o' nights. Oh,
but think of the life she must have led, Will ! '
' I'm not interfering with it ; only she must
leave me alone.'
1 She may want to patch you up and insure
you,' I suggested.
t D'you know what you are ? ' Mrs. Godfrey
turned on me with the smile I have feared for
the last quarter of a century. ' You're the nice,
kind, wise, doggy friend. You don't know how
wise and nice you are supposed to be. Will has
sent Harvey to you to complete the poor angel's
convalescence. You know all about dogs, or Will
wouldn't have done it. He's written her that.
You're too far off for her to make daily calls on
you. P'r'aps she'll drop in two or three times
a week, and write on other days. But it doesn't
matter what she does, because you don't own
Mittleham, don't you see ? '
I told her I saw most clearly.
'Oh, you'll get over that in a few days,' Mrs.
Godfrey countered. ' You're the sporting, re-
sponsible, doggy friend who '
' He used to look at me like that at first,' said
Attley, with a visible shudder, ' but he gave it
up after a bit. It's only because you're new to
him.'
' But, confound you ! he's a ghoul ' I began.
' And when he gets quite well, you'll send him
back to her direct with your love, and she'll give
you some pretty four-tailed goldfish,' said Mrs.
138 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Godfrey, rising. ' That's all settled. Car, please.
We're going to Brighton to lunch together.'
They ran before I could get into my stride, so
I told the dog Harvey what I thought of them
and his mistress. He never shifted his position,
but stared at me, an intense, lopsided stare, eye
after eye. Malachi came along when he had seen
his sister off, and from a distance counselled me
to drown the brute and consort with gentlemen
again. But the dog Harvey never even cocked
his cockable ear.
And so it continued as long as he was with me.
Where I sat, he sat and stared ; where I walked,
he walked beside, head stiffly slewed over one
shoulder in single-barrelled contemplation of me.
He never gave tongue, never closed in for a caress,
seldom let me stir a step alone. And, to my
amazement, Malachi, who suffered no stranger to
live within our gates, saw this gaunt, growing,
green-eyed devil wipe him out of my service and
company without a whimper. Indeed, one would
have said the situation interested him, for he
would meet us returning from grim walks together,
and look alternately at Harvey and at me with the
same quivering interest that he showed at the
mouth of a rat-hole. Outside these inspections,
Malachi withdrew himself as only a dog or a
woman can.
Miss Sichliffe came over after a few days
(luckily I was out) with some elaborate story of
paying calls in the neighbourhood. She sent me
a note of thanks next day. I was reading it when
Harvey and Malachi entered and disposed them-
THE DOG HERVEY 139
selves as usual, Harvey close up to stare at me,
Malachi half under the sofa, watching us both. Out
of curiosity I returned Harvey's stare, then pulled
his lopsided head on to my knee, and took his eye
for several minutes. Now, in Malachi's eye I can
see at any hour all that there is of the normal
decent dog, flecked here and there with that
strained half-soul which man's love and association
have added to his nature. But with Harvey the
eye was perplexed, as a tortured man's. Only by
looking far into its deeps could one make out the
spirit of the proper animal, beclouded and cowering
beneath some unfair burden.
Leggatt, my chauffeur, came in for orders.
1 How d'you think Harvey's coming on ? '
I said, as I rubbed the brute's gulping neck. The
vet had warned me of the possibilities of spinal
trouble following distemper.
' He ain't my fancy,' was the reply. ' But /
don't question his comings and goings so long as
I 'aven't to sit alone in a room with him.'
1 Why ? He's as meek as Moses,' I said.
* He fair gives me the creeps. P'r'aps he'll go
out in fits.'
But Harvey, as I wrote his mistress from time
to time, throve, and when he grew better, would
play by himself grisly games of spying, walking
up, hailing, and chasing another dog. From these
he would break off of a sudden and return to his
normal stiff gait, with the air of one who had
forgotten some matter of life and death, which
could be reached only by staring at me. I left
him one evening posturing with the unseen on
i4o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
the lawn, and went inside to finish some letters for
the post. I must have been at work nearly an
hour, for I was going to turn on the lights, when
I feit there was somebody in the room whom, the
short hairs at the back of my neck warned me, I
was not in the least anxious to face. There was a
mirror on the wall. As I lifted my eyes to it I
saw the dog Harvey reflected near the shadow by
the closed door. He had reared himself full-
length on his hind legs, his head a little one side
to clear a sofa between us, and he was looking at
me. The face, with its knitted brows and drawn
lips, was the face of a dog, but the look, for the
fraction of time that I caught it, was human —
wholly and horribly human. When the blood
in my body went forward again he had dropped
to the floor, and was merely studying me in his
usual one-eyed fashion. Next day I returned
him to Miss SichlifTe. I would not have kept
him another day for the wealth of Asia, or even
Ella Godfrey's approval.
Miss SichlifFe's house I discovered to be a mid-
Victorian mansion of peculiar villainy even for its
period, surrounded by gardens of conflicting
colours, all dazzling with glass and fresh paint on
ironwork. Striped blinds, for it was a blazing
autumn morning, covered most of the windows,
and a voice sang to the piano an almost forgotten
song of Jean Ingelow's —
Methought that the stars were blinking bright,
And the old brig's sails unfurled —
Down came the loud pedal, and the unrestrained
THE DOG HERVEY 141
cry swelled out across a bed of tritomas consuming
in their own fires —
When I said I will sail to my love this night
On the other side of the world.
1 have no music, but the voice drew. I waited till
the end :
Oh, maid most dear, I am not here
I have no place apart —
No dwelling more on sea or shore,
But only in thy heart.
It seemed to me a poor life that had no more than
that to do at eleven o'clock of a Tuesday forenoon.
Then Miss Sichliffe suddenly lumbered through
a French window in clumsy haste, her brows
contracted against the light.
* Well ? ' she said, delivering the word like
a spear-thrust, with the full weight of a body
behind it.
' I've brought Harvey back at last,' I replied.
' Here he is.'
But it was at me she looked, not at the dog who
had cast himself at her feet — looked as though she
would have fished my soul out of my breast on
the instant.
' Wha — what did you think of him ? What
did you make of him? ' she panted. I was too
taken aback for the moment to reply. Her voice
broke as she stooped to the dog at her knees. ' O
Harvey, Harvey ! You utterly worthless old devil ! '
she cried, and the dog cringed and abased himself
in servility that one could scarcely bear to look
upon. I made to go.
1 42 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Oh, but please, you mustn't ! ' She tugged at
the car's side. * Wouldn't you like some flowers
or some orchids ? We've really splendid orchids,
and ' — she clasped her hands — ' there are Japanese
goldfish — real Japanese goldfish, with four tails.
If you don't care for 'em, perhaps your friends
or somebody — oh, please ! '
Harvey had recovered himself, and I realised
that this woman beyond the decencies was fawning
on me as the dog had fawned on her.
' Certainly,' I said, ashamed to meet her eye.
' I'm lunching at Mittleham, but '
' There's plenty of time,' she entreated. ' What
do you think of Harvey ? '
' He's a queer beast,' I said, getting out. * He
does nothing but stare at me.'
' Does he stare at you all the time he's with
you ? '
' Always. He's doing it now. Look ! '
We had halted. Harvey had sat down, and
was staring from one to the other with a weaving
motion of the head.
' He'll do that all day,' I said. ■ What is it,
Harvey ? '
* Yes, what is it, Harvey ? ' she echoed. The
dog's throat twitched, his body stifFened and shook
as though he were going to have a fit. Then he
came back with a visible wrench to his unwinking
watch.
' 'Always so ? ' she whispered.
* Always,' I replied, and told her something of
his life with me. She nodded once or twice, and
in the end led me into the house.
THE DOG HERVEY 143
There were imaging pitch-pine doors of Gothic
design in it ; there were inlaid marble mantel-
pieces and cut-steel fenders ; there were stupendous
wall-papers, and octagonal, medallioned Wedge-
wood what-nots, and black-and-gilt Austrian
images holding candelabra, with every other re-
finement that Art had achieved or wealth had bought
between 1851 and 1878. And everything reeked
of varnish.
' Now ! ' she opened a baize door, and pointed
down a long corridor flanked with more Gothic
doors. ' This was where we used to — to patch 'em
up. You've heard of us. Mrs. Godfrey told you
in the garden the day I got Harvey given me. I '
— she drew in her breath — ' I live here by myself,
and I have a very large income. Come back,
Harvey.'
He had tiptoed down the corridor, as rigid as
ever, and was sitting outside one of the shut doors.
' Look here ! ' she said, and planted herself squarely
in front of me. ' I tell you this because you —
you've patched up Harvey, too. Now, I want you
to remember that my name is Moira. Mother
calls me Marjorie because it's more refined ; but
my real name is Moira, and I am in my thirty-
fourth year.'
' Very good,' I said. ' I'll remember all that.*
1 Thank you.' Then with a sudden swoop into
the humility of an abashed boy — ' 'Sorry if I
haven't said the proper things. You see — there's
Harvey looking at us again. Oh, I want to say —
if ever you want anything in the way of orchids or
goldfish or — or anything else that would be useful
i44 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
to you, you've only to come to me for it. Under
the will I'm perfectly independent, and we're a
long-lived family, worse luck ! ' She looked at
me, and her face worked like glass behind driven
flame. ' I may reasonably expect to live another
fifty years,' she said.
< Thank you, Miss Sichliffe,' I replied. < If I
want anything, you may be sure I'll come to you
for it.' She nodded. ' Now I must get over to
Mittleham,' I said.
' Mr. Attley will ask you all about this.' For
the first time she laughed aloud. ' I'm afraid I
frightened him nearly out of the county. I
didn't think, of course. But I dare say he knows
by this time he was wrong. Say good - bye to
Harvey.'
' Good-bye, old man,' I said. ' Give me a
farewell stare, so we shall know each other when
we meet again.'
The dog looked up, then moved slowly toward
me, and stood, head bowed to the floor, shaking
in every muscle as I patted him ; and when I
turned, I saw him crawl back to her feet.
That was not a good preparation for the
rampant boy-and-girl-dominated lunch at Mittle-
ham, which, as usual, I found in possession of
everybody except the owner.
' But what did the dromedary say when you
brought her beast back ? ' Attley demanded.
* The usual polite things,' I replied. ' I'm
posing as the nice doggy friend nowadays.'
' I don't envy you. She's never darkened my
doors, thank goodness, since I left Karvey at
THE DOG HERVEY 145
your place. I suppose she'll run about the county
now swearing you cured him. That's a woman's
idea of gratitude.' Attley seemed rather hurt,
and Mrs. Godfrey laughed.
1 That proves you were right about Miss Sich-
liffe, Ella,' I said. ' She had no designs on any-
body.'
' I'm always right in these matters. But didn't
she even offer you a goldfish ? '
* Not a thing,' said I. ' You know what an
old maid's like where her precious dog's concerned.'
And though I have tried vainly to lie to Ella
Godfrey for many years, I believe that in this
case I succeeded.
When I turned into our drive that evening,
Leggatt observed half aloud :
£ I'm glad Zvengali's back where he belongs.
It's time our Mike had a look in.'
Sure enough, there was Malachi back again in
spirit as well as flesh, but still with that odd air
of expectation he had picked up from Harvey.
It was in January that Attley wrote me that
Mrs. Godfrey, wintering in Madeira with Milly,
her unmarried daughter, had been attacked with
something like enteric ; that the hotel, anxious
for its good name, had thrust them both out into
a cottage annexe ; that he was off with a nurse,
and that I was not to leave England till I heard
from him again. In a week he wired that Milly
was down as well, and that I must bring out two
more nurses, with suitable delicacies.
Within seventeen hours I had got them all
L
146 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
aboard the Cape boat, and had seen the women
safely collapsed into sea-sickness. The next few
weeks were for me, as for the invalids, a low
delirium, clouded with fantastic memories of
Portuguese officials trying to tax calves' -foot
jelly ; voluble doctors insisting that true typhoid
was unknown in the island ; nurses who had to
be exercised, taken out of themselves, and returned
on the tick of change of guard ; night slides
down glassy, cobbled streets, smelling of sewage
and flowers, between walls whose every stone and
patch Attley and I knew ; vigils in stucco
verandahs, watching the curve and descent of
great stars or drawing auguries from the break of
dawn ; insane interludes of gambling at the local
Casino, where we won heaps of unconsoling silver ;
blasts of steamers arriving and departing in the
roads ; help offered by total strangers, grabbed at
or thrust aside ; the long nightmare crumbling
back into sanity one forenoon under a vine-covered
trellis, where Attley sat hugging a nurse, while
the others danced a noiseless, neat-footed break-
down never learned at the Middlesex Hospital.
At last, as the tension came out all over us in
aches and tingles that we put down to the country
wine, a vision of Mrs. Godfrey, her grey hair
turned to spun-glass, but her eyes triumphant
over the shadow of retreating death beneath them,
with Milly, enormously grown, and clutching
life back to her young breast, both stretched out
on cane chairs, clamouring for food.
In this ungirt hour there imported himself into
our life a youngish-looking middle-aged man of
THE DOG HERVEY 147
the name of Shend, with a blurred face and
deprecating eyes. He said he had gambled with
me at the Casino, which was no recommendation,
and I remember that he twice gave me a basket
of champagne and liqueur brandy for the invalids,
which a sailor in a red-tasselled cap carried up to
the cottage for me at 3 a.m. He turned out to
be the son of some merchant prince in the oil and
colour line, and the owner of a four-hundred-ton
steam yacht, into which, at his gentle insistence,
we later shifted our camp, staff, and equipage,
Milly weeping with delight to escape from the
horrible cottage. There we lay off Funchal for
weeks, while Shend did miracles of luxury and
attendance through deputies, and never once asked
how his guests were enjoying themselves. Indeed,
for several days at a time we would see nothing
of him. He was, he said, subject to malaria.
Giving as they do with both hands, I knew that
Attley and Mrs. Godfrey could take nobly ; but
I never met a man who so nobly gave and so
nobly received thanks as Shend did.
* Tell us why you have been so unbelievably
kind to us gipsies,' Mrs. Godfrey said to him one
day on deck.
He looked up from a diagram of some
Thames-mouth shoals which he was explaining to
me, and answered with his gentle smile :
' I will. It's because it makes me happy — it
makes me more than happy — to be with you. It
makes me comfortable. You know how selfish
men are ? If a man feels comfortable all over
with certain people, he'll bore them to death, just
148 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
like a dog. You always make me feel as if
pleasant things were going to happen to me.'
1 Haven't any ever happened before ? ' Milly
asked.
' This is the most pleasant thing that has
happened to me in ever so many years,' he replied.
' I feel like the man in the Bible, " It's good for
me to be here." Generally, I don't feel that it's
good for me to be anywhere in particular.' Then,
as one begging a favour. ' You'll let me come
home with you — in the same boat, I mean ? I'd
take you back in this thing of mine, and that
would save you packing your trunks, but she's
too lively for spring work across the Bay.'
We booked our berths, and when the time
came, he wafted us and ours aboard the South-
ampton mail - boat with the pomp of pleni-
potentiaries and the precision of the Navy. Then
he dismissed his yacht, and became an inconspicuous
passenger in a cabin opposite to mine, on the port
side.
We ran at once into early British spring
weather, followed by sou'west gales. Mrs.
Godfrey, Milly, and the nurses disappeared.
Attley stood it out, visibly yellowing, till the next
meal, and followed suit, and Shend and I had the
little table all to ourselves. I found him even
more attractive when the women were away.
The natural sweetness of the man, his voice, and
bearing all fascinated me, and his knowledge of
practical seamanship (he held an extra master's
certificate) was a real joy. We sat long in the
empty saloon and longer in the smoking-room,
THE DOG HERVEY 149
making dashes downstairs over slippery decks at
the eleventh hour.
It was on Friday night, just as I was going to
bed, that he came into my cabin, after cleaning
his teeth, which he did half a dozen times a day.
' I say,' he began hurriedly, ' do you mind if I
come in here for a little ? I'm a bit edgy.' I
must have shown surprise. ' I'm ever so much
better about liquor than I used to be, but — it's
the whisky in the suitcase that throws me. For
God's sake, old man, don't go back on me
to-night ! Look at my hands ! '
They were fairly jumping at the wrists. He
sat down on a trunk that had slid out with the
roll. We had reduced speed, and were surging
in confused seas that pounded on the black port-
glasses. The night promised to be a pleasant
one !
1 You understand, of course, don't you ? ' he
chattered.
' Oh yes,' I said cheerily ; ' but how about '
' No, no ; on no account the doctor. 'Tell a
doctor, tell the whole ship. Besides, I've only
got a touch of 'em. You'd never have guessed
it, would you? The tooth-wash does the trick.
I'll give you the prescription.'
' I'll send a note to the doctor for a prescription,
shall I ? ' I suggested.
' Right ! I put myself unreservedly in your
hands. 'Fact is, I always did. I said to myself —
'sure I don't bore you ? — the minute I saw you, I
said, " Thou art the man." He repeated the
phrase as he picked at his knees. ' All the same,
i5o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
you can take it from me that the ewe -lamb
business is a rotten bad one. I don't care how
unfaithful the shepherd may be. Drunk or
sober, 'tisn't cricket.'
A surge of the trunk threw him across the
cabin as the steward answered my bell. I wrote
my requisition to the doctor while Shend was
struggling to his feet.
' What's wrong ? ' he began. ' Oh, I know.
We're slowing for soundings off Ushant. It's
about time, too. You'd better ship the dead-
lights when you come back, Matchem. It'll save
you waking us later. This sea's going to get up
when the tide turns. That'll show you,' he said
as the man left, ' that I am to be trusted. You —
you'll stop me if I say anything I shouldn't,
won't you ? '
' Talk away,' I replied, ' if it makes you feel
better.'
' That's it ; you've hit it exactly. You always
make me feel better. I can rely on you. It's
awkward soundings but you'll see me through it.
We'll defeat him yet. ... I may be an utterly
worthless devil, but I'm not a brawler. ... I told
him so at breakfast. I said, " Doctor, I detest
brawling, but if ever you allow that girl to be
insulted again as Clements insulted her, I will
break your neck with my own hands." You
think I was right ?'
' Absolutely,' I agreed.
' Then we needn't discuss the matter any
further. That man was a murderer in intention
— outside the law, you understand, as it was then.
THE DOG HERVEY 151
They've changed it since — but he never deceived
me. I told him so. I said to him at the time,
" I don't know what price you're going to put on
my head, but if ever you allow Clements to insult
her again, you'll never live to claim it."
'And what did he do? " I asked, to carry on
the conversation, for Matchem entered with the
bromide.
* Oh, crumpled up at once. 'Lead still going,
Matchem ? '
' I 'aven't 'eard,' said that faithful servant of
the Union-Castle Company.
* Quite right. Never alarm the passengers.
Ship the dead-light, will you ? ' Matchem
shipped it, for we were rolling very heavily.
There were tramplings and gull-like cries from on
deck. Shend looked at me with a mariner's eye.
'That's nothing,' he said protectingly.
' Oh, it's all right for you,' I said, jumping at
the idea. ' I haven't an extra master's certificate.
I'm only a passenger. I confess it funks me.'
Instantly his whole bearing changed to answer
the appeal.
' My dear fellow, it's as simple as houses.
We're hunting for sixty-five fathom water. Any-
thing short of sixty, with a sou' west wind means —
but I'll get my Channel Pilot out of my cabin and
give you the general idea. I'm only too grateful
to do anything to put your mind at ease.'
And so, perhaps, for another hour — he declined
the drink — Channel Pilot in hand, he navigated us
round Ushant, and at my request up-channel to
Southampton, light by light, with explanations and
152 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
reminiscences. I professed myself soothed at last,
and suggested bed.
1 In a second,' said he. * Now, you wouldn't
think, would you ' — he glanced off the book toward
my wildly swaying dressing-gown on the door —
' that I've been seeing things for the last half-
hour ? 'Fact is, I'm just on the edge of 'em,
skating on thin ice round the corner — nor'east
as near as nothing — where that dog's looking
at me.'
' What's the dog like ? ' I asked.
1 Ah, that is comforting of you ! Most men
walk through 'em to show me they aren't real.
As if I didn't know ! But you re different. Any-
body could see that with half an eye.' He stiffened
and pointed. ' Damn it all ! The dog sees it too
with half an Why, he knows you ! Knows
you perfectly. D'you know him ? '
' How can I tell if he isn't real ? ' I insisted.
' But you can ! Toutq all right. I saw that
from the first. Don't go back on me now or I
shall go to pieces like the Drummond Castle. I beg
your pardon, old man ; but, you see, you do know
the dog. I'll prove it. What's that dog doing ?
Come on ! Tou know.' A tremor shook him,
and he put his hand on my knee, and whispered
with great meaning : ' I'll letter or halve it with
you. There ! You begin.'
' S,' said I to humour him, for a dog would
most likely be standing or sitting, or may be
scratching or sniffing or staring.
' Q,' he went on, and I could feel the heat of
his shaking hand.
THE DOG HERVEY 153
' U,' said I. There was no other letter possible ;
but I was shaking too.
<n;
' T-i-n-g,' he ran out. ' There ! That proves
it. I knew you knew him. You don't know
what a relief that is. Between ourselves, old man,
he — he's been turning up lately a — a damn sight
more often than I cared for. And a squinting
dog — a dog that squints ! I mean that's a bit too
much. Eh ? What ? ' He gulped and half rose,
and I thought that the full tide of delirium would
be on him in another sentence.
' Not a bit of it,' I said as a last chance, with
my hand over the bellpush. 'Why, you've just
proved that I know him ; so there are two of us
in the game, anyhow.'
' By Jove ! that is an idea ! Of course there
are. I knew you'd see me through. We'll defeat
them yet. Hi, pup ! . . . He's gone. Absolutely
disappeared ! ' He sighed with relief, and I caught
the lucky moment.
' Good business ! I expect he only came to
have a look at me,' I said. ' Now, get this drink
down and turn in to the lower bunk.'
He obeyed, protesting that he could not incon-
venience me, and in the midst of apologies sank
into a dead sleep. I expected a wakeful night,
having a certain amount to think over ; but no
sooner had I scrambled into the top-bunk than
sleep came on me like a wave from the other side
of the world.
In the morning there were apologies, which
154 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
we got over at breakfast before our party were
about.
1 1 suppose — after this — well, I don't blame you.
I'm rather a lonely chap, though.' His eyes lifted
dog-like across the table.
'Shend,' I replied, 'I'm not running a Sunday
school. You're coming home with me in my car
as soon as we land.'
'That is kind of you — kinder than you think.'
'That's because you're a little jumpy still.
Now, I don't want to mix up in your private
affairs '
' But I'd like you to,' he interrupted.
' Then, would you mind telling me the Christian
name of a girl who was insulted by a man called
Clements ? '
' Moira,' he whispered ; and just then Mrs.
Godfrey and Milly came to table with their shore-
going hats on.
We did not tie up till noon, but the faithful
Leggatt had intrigued his way down to the dock-
edge, and beside him sat Malachi, wearing his
collar of gold, or Leggatt makes it look so, as
eloquent as Demosthenes. Shend flinched a little
when he saw him. We packed Mrs. Godfrey and
Milly into Attley's car — they were going with him
to Mittleham, of course — and drew clear across
the railway lines to find England all lit and per-
fumed for spring. Shend sighed with happiness.
' D'you know,' he said, * if — if you'd chucked
me — I should have gone down to my cabin after
breakfast and cut my throat. And now — it's like
a dream — a good dream, you know.'
THE DOG HERVEY 155
We lunched with the other three at Romsey.
Then I sat in front for a little while to talk to my
Malachi. When I looked back, Shend was solidly
asleep, and stayed so for the next two hours, while
Leggatt chased Attley's fat Daimler along the
green-speckled hedges. He woke up when we
said good-bye at Mittleham, with promises to meet
again very soon.
' And I hope,' said Mrs. Godfrey, * that every-
thing pleasant will happen to you.'
' Heaps and heaps — all at once,' cried long,
weak Milly, waving her wet handkerchief.
'I've just got to look in at a house near here
for a minute to inquire about a dog,' I said, ' and
then we will go home.'
' I used to know this part of the world,' he
replied, and said no more till Leggatt shot past
the lodge at the Sichliffes's gate. Then I heard
him gasp.
Miss Sichliffe, in a green waterproof, an orange
jersey, and a pinkish leather hat, was working on
a bulb-border. She straightened herself as the car
stopped, and breathed hard. Shend got out and
walked towards her. They shook hands, turned
round together, and went into the house. Then
the dog Harvey pranced out corkily from under
the lee of a bench. Malachi, with one joyous
swoop, fell on him as an enemy and an equal.
Harvey, for his part, freed from all burden what-
soever except the obvious duty of a man-dog on
his own ground, met Malachi without reserve or
remorse, and with six months' additional growth
to come and go on.
156 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Don't check 'em ! ' cried Leggatt, dancing
round the flurry. ' They've both been saving up
for each other all this time. It'll do 'em worlds
of good.'
' Leggatt,' I said, ' will you take Mr. Shend's
bag and suitcase up to the house and put them
down just inside the door ? Then we will go on.'
So I enjoyed the finish alone. It was a dead
heat, and they licked each other's jaws in amity
till Harvey, one imploring eye on me, leaped into
the front seat, and Malachi backed his appeal. It
was theft, but I took him, and we talked all the
way home of r-rats and r-rabbits and bones and
baths and the other basic facts of life. That
evening after dinner they slept before the fire,
with their warm chins across the hollows of my
ankles — to each chin an ankle — till I kicked them
upstairs to bed.
I was not at Mittleham when she came over to
announce her engagement, but I heard of it when
Mrs. Godfrey and Attley came, forty miles an
hour, over to me, and Mrs. Godfrey called me
names of the worst for suppression of informa-
tion.
' As long as it wasn't me, I don't care,' said
Attley.
' I believe you knew it all along,' Mrs. Godfrey
repeated. ' Else what made you drive that man
literally into her arms ? '
' To ask after the dog Harvey,' I replied.
* Then, what's the beast doing here ? ' Attley
demanded, for Malachi and the dog Harvey were
THE DOG HERVEY 157
deep in a council of the family with Bettina, who
was being out-argued.
' Oh, Harvey seemed to think himself de trop
where he was/ I said. * And she hasn't sent after
him. You'd better save Bettina before they kill
her.'
' There's been enough lying about that dog,'
said Mrs. Godfrey to me. ' If he wasn't born in
lies, he was baptized in 'em. D'you know why
she called him Harvey ? It only occurred to me
in those dreadful days when I was ill, and one
can't keep from thinking, and thinks everything.
D'you know your Boswell ? What did Johnson
say about Hervey — with an e ? '
1 Oh, that's it, is it ? ' I cried incautiously.
4 That was why I ought to have verified my
quotations. The spelling defeated me. Wait a
moment, and it will come back. Johnson said :
" He was a vicious man," ' I began.
' " But very kind to me," Mrs. Godfrey
prompted. Then, both together, ' " If you call
a dog Hervey, I shall love him." '
' So you were mixed up in it. At any rate,
you had your suspicions from the first ? Tell me,'
she said.
1 Ella,' I said, ' I don't know anything rational
or reasonable about any of it. It was all — all
woman-work, and it scared me horribly.'
' Why ? ' she asked.
That was six years ago. I have written this
tale to let her know — wherever she may be.
THE COMFORTERS
Until thy feet have trod the Road
Advise not wayside folk,
Nor till thy back has borne the Load
Break in upon the Broke.
Chase not with undesired largesse
Of sympathy the heart
Which, knowing her own bitterness,
Presumes to dwell apart.
Employ not that glad hand to raise
The God-forgotten head
To Heaven, and all the neighbours' gaze-
Cover thy mouth instead.
The quivering chin, the bitten lip,
The cold and sweating brow,
Later may yearn for fellowship —
Not now, you ass, not now !
Time, not thy ne'er so timely speech,
Life, not thy views thereon,
Shall furnish or deny to each
His consolation.
158
THE COMFORTERS 159
Or, if impelled to interfere,
Exhort, uplift, advise,
Lend not a base, betraying ear
To all the victim's cries.
Only the Lord can understand
When those first pangs begin,
How much is reflex action and
How much is really sin.
E'en from good words thyself refrain,
And tremblingly admit
There is no anodyne for pain
Except the shock of it.
So, when thine own dark hour shall fall.
Unchallenged canst thou say :
1 1 never worried you at all,
For God's sake go away ! '
The Village that Voted the Earth
was Flat
(1913)
Our drive till then had been quite a success.
The other men in the car were my friend
Woodhouse, young Ollyett, a distant connection
of his, and Pallant, the M.P. Woodhouse's
business was the treatment and cure of sick
journals. He knew by instinct the precise
moment in a newspaper's life when the impetus
of past good management is exhausted and it
fetches up on the dead-centre between slow and
expensive collapse and the new start which can be
given by gold injections — and genius. He was
wisely ignorant of journalism ; but when he
stooped on a carcase there was sure to be meat.
He had that week added a half-dead, halfpenny
evening paper to his collection, which consisted
of a prosperous London daily, one provincial
ditto, and a limp-bodied weekly of commercial
leanings. He had also, that very hour, planted
me with a large block of the evening paper's
common shares, and was explaining the whole art
161 M
1 62 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
of editorship to Ollyett, a young man three years
from Oxford, with coir-matting-coloured hair and
a face harshly modelled by harsh experiences, who,
I understood, was assisting in the new venture.
Pallant, the long, wrinkled M.P., whose voice is
more like a crane's than a peacock's, took no
shares, but gave us all advice.
' You'll find it rather a knacker's yard,' Wood-
house was saying. 'Yes, I know they call me The
Knacker ; but it will pay inside a year. All my
papers do. I've only one motto : Back your luck
and back your staff. It'll come out all right.'
Then the car stopped, and a policeman asked
our names and addresses for exceeding the speed-
limit. We pointed out that the road ran absolutely
straight for half a mile ahead without even a side-
lane. * That's just what we depend on,' said the
policeman unpleasantly.
1 The usual swindle,' said Woodhouse under
his breath, ' What's the name of this place ? '
' Huckley,' said the policeman. 'H-u-c-k-1-e-y,'
and wrote something in his note -book at which
young Ollyett protested. A large red man on a
grey horse who had been watching us from the
other side of the hedge shouted an order we could
not catch. The policeman laid his hand on the
rim of the right driving-door (Woodhouse carries
his spare tyres aft), and it closed on the button
of the electric horn. The grey horse at once
bolted, and we could hear the rider swearing all
across the landscape.
' Damn it, man, you've got your silly fist on
it ! Take it off! ' Woodhouse shouted.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 163
' Ho ! ' said the constable, looking carefully
at his fingers as though we had trapped them.
'That won't do you any good either,' and he
wrote once more in his note-book before he allowed
us to go.
This was Woodhouse's first brush with motor
law, and since I expected no ill consequences to
myself, I pointed out that it was very serious. I
took the same view myself when in due time I
found that I, too, was summonsed on charges
ranging from the use of obscene language to
endangering traffic.
Judgment was done in a little pale-yellow
market-town with a small, Jubilee clock-tower
and a large corn-exchange. Woodhouse drove
us there in his car. Pallant, who had not been
included in the summons, came with us as moral
support. While we waited outside, the fat man
on the grey horse rode up and entered into loud
talk with his brother magistrates. He said to
one of them — for I took the trouble to note it
down — ' It falls away from my lodge-gates, dead
straight, three-quarters of a mile. I'd defy any
one to resist it. We rooked seventy pounds out
of 'em last month. No car can resist the tempta-
tion. You ought to have one your side the
county, Mike. They simply can't resist it.'
* Whew ! ' said Woodhouse. ' We're in for
trouble. Don't you say a word — or Ollyett
either ! I'll pay the fines and we'll get it over
as soon as possible. Where's Pallant ? '
' At the back of the court somewhere,' said
Ollyett. ' I saw him slip in just now.'
1 64 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
The fat man then took his seat on the Bench,
of which he was chairman, and I gathered from
a bystander that his name was Sir Thomas Ingell,
Bart., M.P., of Ingell Park, Huckley. He began
with an allocution pitched in a tone that would
have justified revolt throughout empires. Evi-
dence, when the crowded little court did not drown
it with applause, was given in the pauses of the
address. They were all very proud of their Sir
Thomas, and looked from him to us, wondering
why we did not applaud too.
Taking its time from the chairman, the Bench
rollicked with us for seventeen minutes. Sir
Thomas explained that he was sick and tired of
processions of cads of our type, who would be
better employed breaking stones on the road than
in frightening horses worth more than themselves
or their ancestors. This was after it had been
proved that Woodhouse's man had turned on
the horn purposely to annoy Sir Thomas, who
' happened to be riding by ' ! There were other
remarks too — primitive enough, — but it was the
unspeakable brutality of the tone, even more than
the quality of the justice, or the laughter of the
audience that stung our souls out of all reason.
When we were dismissed — to the tune of twenty-
three pounds, twelve shillings and sixpence — we
waited for Pallant to join us, while we listened to
the next case — one of driving without a licence.
Ollyett with an eye to his evening paper, had
already taken very full notes of our own, but we
did not wish to seem prejudiced.
' It's all right,' said the reporter of the local
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 165
paper soothingly. * We never report Sir Thomas
in extenso. Only the fines and charges.'
* Oh, thank you,' Ollyett replied, and I heard
him ask who every one in court might be. The
local reporter was very communicative.
The new victim, a large, flaxen-haired man in
somewhat striking clothes, to which Sir Thomas,
now thoroughly warmed, drew public attention,
said that he had left his licence at home. Sir
Thomas asked him if he expected the police to go
to his home address at Jerusalem to find it for
him ; and the court roared. Nor did Sir Thomas
approve of the man's name, but insisted on calling
him ' Mr. Masquerader,' and every time he did
so, all his people shouted. Evidently this was
their established auto-da-fi.
' He didn't summons me — because I'm in the
House, I suppose. I think I shall have to ask a
Question,' said Pallant, reappearing at the close of
the case.
* I think / shall have to give it a little
publicity too,' said Woodhouse. ' We can't have
this kind of thing going on, you know.' His face
was set and quite white. Pallant's, on the other
hand, was black, and I know that my very stomach
had turned with rage. Ollyett was dumb.
'Well, let's have lunch,' Woodhouse said at
last. ' Then we can get away before the show
breaks up.'
We drew Ollyett from the arms of the local
reporter, crossed the Market Square to the Red
Lion and found Sir Thomas's ' Mr. Masquerader '
just sitting down to beer, beef and pickles.
1 66 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Ah ! ' said he, in a large voice. ' Companions
in misfortune. Won't you gentlemen join me ? '
I Delighted,' said Woodhouse. ' What did you
get ? '
I I haven't decided. It might make a good
turn, but — the public aren't educated up to it yet.
It's beyond 'em. If it wasn't, that red dub on
the Bench would be worth fifty a week.'
' Where ? ' said Woodhouse. The man looked
at him with unaffected surprise.
1 At any one of My places,' he replied. ' But
perhaps you live here r '
' Good heavens ! ' cried young Ollyett suddenly.
* You are Masquerier, then ? I thought you were ! '
1 Bat Masquerier.' He let the words fall
with the weight of an international ultimatum.
1 Yes, that's all I am. But you have the advantage
of me, gentlemen.'
For the moment, while we were introducing
ourselves, I was puzzled. Then I recalled prismatic
music-hall posters — of enormous acreage — that
had been the unnoticed background of my visits
to London for years past. Posters of men and
women, singers, jongleurs, impersonators and
audacities of every draped and undraped brandy all
moved on and off in London and the Provinces
by Bat Masquerier — with the long wedge-tailed
flourish following the final ' r.'
' / knew you at once,' said Pallant, the trained
M.P., and I promptly backed the lie. Woodhouse
mumbled excuses. Bat Masquerier was not moved
for or against us any more than the frontage of
one of his own palaces.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 167
' I always tell My people there's a limit to the
size of the lettering,' he said. ' Overdo that and
the ret'na doesn't take it in. Advertisin' is the
most delicate of all the sciences.'
1 There's one man in the world who is going to
get a little of it if I live for the next twenty-four
hours,' said Woodhouse, and explained how this
would come about.
Masquerier stared at him lengthily with gun-
metal-blue eyes.
' You mean it ? ' he drawled ; the voice was as
magnetic as the look.
' / do,' said Ollyett. ■ That business of the
horn alone ought to have him off the Bench in
three months.' Masquerier looked at him even
longer than he had looked at Woodhouse.
' He told me,' he said suddenly, ' that my
home-address was Jerusalem. You heard that ? '
' But it was the tone — the tone,' Ollyett cried.
' You noticed that, too, did you ? ' said
Masquerier. ' That's the artistic temperament.
You can do a lot with it. And I'm Bat
Masquerier,' he went on. He dropped his chin
in his fists and scowled straight in front of
him. . . . ' I made the Silhouettes — I made the
Trefoil and the Jocunda. I made 'Dal Benzaguen.'
Here Ollyett sat straight up, for in common with
the youth of that year he worshipped Miss Vidal
Benzaguen of the Trefoil immensely and unre-
servedly. ' " Is that a dressing-gown or an ulster
you're supposed to be wearing ? " You heard
that ? . . . " And I suppose you hadn't time to
brush your hair either ? " You heard that ? . . .
1 68 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Now, you hear me ! ' His voice filled the coffee-
room, then dropped to a whisper as dreadful as a
surgeon's before an operation. He spoke for
several minutes. Pallant muttered ' Hear! hear !'
I saw Ollyett's eye flash — it was to Ollyett that
Masquerier addressed himself chiefly, — and Wood-
house leaned forward with joined hands.
' Are you with me ? ' he went on, gathering us
all up in one sweep of the arm. ' When I begin
a thing I see it through, gentlemen. What Bat
can't break, breaks him ! But I haven't struck
that thing yet. This is no one-turn turn-it-down
show. This is business to the dead finish. Are
you with me, gentlemen ? Good ! Now, we'll
pool our assets. One London morning, and one
provincial daily, didn't you say ? One weekly
commercial ditto and one M.P.'
1 Not much use, I'm afraid,' Pallant smirked.
'But privileged. But privileged, ' he returned.
'And we have also my little team — London,
Blackburn, Liverpool, Leeds — I'll tell you about
Manchester later — and Me ! Bat Masquerier.'
He breathed the name reverently into his tankard.
' Gentlemen, when our combination has finished
with Sir Thomas Ingell, Bart., M.P., and every-
thing else that is his, Sodom and Gomorrah will
be a winsome bit of Merrie England beside 'em.
I must go back to town now, but I trust you
gentlemen will give me the pleasure of your
company at dinner to-night at the Chop Suey — the
Red Amber Room — and we'll block out the
scenario.' He laid his hand on young Ollyett's
shoulder and added : ' It's your brains I want.'
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 169
Then he left, in a good deal of astrachan collar
and nickel-plated limousine, and the place felt less
crowded.
We ordered our car a few minutes later. As
Woodhouse, Ollyett and I were getting in, Sir
Thomas Ingell, Bart., M.P., came out of the Hall
of Justice across the square and mounted his horse.
I have sometimes thought that if he had gone in
silence he might even then have been saved, but
as he settled himself in the saddle he caught sight
of us and must needs shout : ' Not off yet ?
You'd better get away and you'd better be careful.'
At that moment Pallant, who had been buying
picture-postcards, came out of the inn, took Sir
Thomas's eye and very leisurely entered the car. It
seemed to me that for one instant there was a shade
of uneasiness on the baronet's grey-whiskered face.
{ I hope,' said Woodhouse after several miles,
' I hope he's a widower.'
1 Yes,' said Pallant. ' For his poor, dear wife's
sake I hope that, very much indeed. I suppose he
didn't see me in Court. Oh, here's the parish
history of Huckley written by the Rector and
here's your share of the picture-postcards. Are
we all dining with this Mr. Masquerier to-night? '
' Yes ! ' said we all.
If Woodhouse knew nothing of journalism,
young Ollyett, who had graduated in a hard school,
knew a good deal. Our halfpenny evening paper,
which we will call The Bun to distinguish her
from her prosperous morning sister, The Cake,
was not only diseased but corrupt. We found
170 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
this out when a man brought us the prospectus of
a new oil-field and demanded sub-leaders on its
prosperity. Ollyett talked pure Brasenose to him
for three minutes. Otherwise he spoke and
wrote trade-English — a toothsome amalgam of
Americanisms and epigrams. But though the
slang changes the game never alters, and Ollyett
and I and, in the end, some others enjoyed it
immensely. It was weeks ere we could see the
wood for the trees, but so soon as the staff realised
that they had proprietors who backed them right
or wrong, and specially when they were wrong
(which is the sole secret of journalism), and that
their fate did not hang on any passing owner's
passing mood, they did miracles.
But we did not neglect Huckley. As Ollyett
said our first care was to create an ' arresting
atmosphere ' round it. He used to visit the
village of week-ends, on a motor-bicycle with a
side-car ; for which reason I left the actual place
alone and dealt with it in the abstract. Yet it was
I who drew first blood. Two inhabitants of
Huckley wrote to contradict a small, quite solid
paragraph in The Bun that a hoopoe had been
seen at Huckley and had, ' of course, been shot
by the local sportsmen.' There was some heat in
their letters, both of which we published. Our
version of how the hoopoe got his crest from
King Solomon was, I grieve to say, so inaccurate
that the Rector himself — no sportsman as he
pointed out, but a lover of accuracy — wrote to us
to correct it. We gave his letter good space and
thanked him.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 171
1 This priest is going to be useful,' said Ollyett.
' He has the impartial mind. I shall vitalise him.'
Forthwith he created M. L. Sigden, a recluse
of refined tastes who in The Bun demanded to
know whether this Huckley-of-the-Hoopoe was
the Hugly of his boyhood and whether, by any
chance, the fell change of name had been wrought
by collusion between a local magnate and the
railway, in the mistaken interests of spurious re-
finement. * For I knew it and loved it with the
maidens of my day — eheu ab angulo ! — as Hugly,'
wrote M. L. Sigden from Oxford.
Though other papers scoffed, The Bun was
gravely sympathetic. Several people wrote to
deny that Huckley had been changed at birth.
Only the Rector — no philosopher as he pointed
out, but a lover of accuracy — had his doubts,
which he laid publicly before Mr. M. L. Sigden,
who suggested, through The Buny that the little
place might have begun life in Anglo-Saxon days
as ' Hogslea ' or among the Normans as - Argile,'
on account of its much clay. The Rector had
his own ideas too (he said it was mostly gravel),
and M. L. Sigden had a fund of reminiscences.
Oddly enough — which is seldom the case with
free reading-matter — our subscribers rather relished
the correspondence, and contemporaries quoted
freely.
'The secret of power,' said Ollyett, 'is not the
big stick. It's the liftable stick.' (This means
the 'arresting' quotation of six or seven lines.)
' Did you see the Spec, had a middle on " Rural
Tenacities" last week. That was all Huckley.
172 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
I'm doing a " Mobiquity " on Huckley next
week.'
Our ' Mobiquities ' were Friday evening
accounts of easy motor-bike-£#w-side-car trips
round London, illustrated (we could never get
that machine to work properly) by smudgy maps.
Ollyett wrote the stuff with a fervour and a
delicacy which I always ascribed to the side-car.
His account of Epping Forest, for instance, was
simply young love with its soul at its lips. But
his Huckley ' Mobiquity ' would have sickened
a soap-boiler. It chemically combined loathsome
familiarity, leering suggestion, slimy piety and
rancid ' social service ' in one fuming compost
that fairly lifted me off my feet.
' Yes,' said he, after compliments. ' It's the
most vital, arresting and dynamic bit of tump I've
done up to date. Non nobis gloria ! I met Sir
Thomas Ingell in his own park. He talked to me
again. He inspired most of it.'
' Which ? The " glutinous native drawl," or
" the neglected adenoids of the village children " ? '
I demanded.
1 Oh, no ! That's only to bring in the panel
doctor. It's the last flight we — I'm proudest of.'
This dealt with c the crepuscular penumbra
spreading her dim limbs over the boskage ' ; with
'jolly rabbits'; with a herd of 'gravid polled
Angus ' ; and with the ' arresting, gipsy-like
face of their swart, scholarly owner — as well
known at the Royal Agricultural Shows as that
of our late King-Emperor.'
'"Swart" is good and so's "gravid,"' said
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED
*73
I, ' but the panel doctor will be annoyed about
the adenoids.'
' Not half as much as Sir Thomas will about
his face,' said Ollyett. ' And if you only knew
what I've left out ! '
He was right. The panel doctor spent his
week-end (this is the advantage of Friday articles) in
overwhelming us with a professional counterblast of
no interest whatever to our subscribers. We told
him so, and he, then and there, battered his
way with it into the Lancet where they are
keen on glands, and forgot us altogether. But
Sir Thomas Ingell was of sterner stuff. He must
have spent a happy week-end too. The letter
which we received from him on Monday proved
him to be a kinless loon of upright life, for no
woman, however remotely interested in a man
would have let it pass the home wastepaper-basket.
He objected to our references to his own herd,
to his own labours in his own village, which he
said was a Model Village, and to our infernal
insolence ; but he objected most to our invoice
of his features. We wrote him courteously to
ask whether the letter was meant for publica-
tion. He, remembering, I presume, the Duke
of Wellington, wrote back, ' publish and be
damned.'
1 Oh ! This is too easy,' Ollyett said as he
began heading the letter.
' Stop a minute,' I said. ' The game is getting
a little beyond us. To-night's the Bat dinner.'
(I may have forgotten to tell you that our dinner
with Bat Masquerier in the Red Amber Room of
174 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
the Chop Suey had come to be a weekly affair.)
' Hold it over till they've all seen it.'
1 Perhaps you're right,' he said. ' You might
waste it.'
At dinner, then, Sir Thomas's letter was handed
round. Bat seemed to be thinking of other matters,
but Pallant was very interested.
1 I've got an idea,' he said presently. ' Could
you put something into The Bun to-morrow about
foot-and-mouth disease in that fellow's herd ? '
' Oh, plague if you like,' Ollyett replied.
' They're only five measly Shorthorns. I saw one
lying down in the park. She'll serve as a sub-
stratum of fact.
' Then, do that ; and hold the letter over mean-
while. I think / come in here,' said Pallant.
■ Why ? ' said I.
' Because there's something coming up in the
House about foot-and-mouth, and because he wrote
me a letter after that little affair when he fined
you. 'Took ten days to think it over. Here
you are,' said Pallant. * House of Commons
paper, you see.'
We read :
Dear Pallant — Although in the past our paths
have not lain much together, I am sure you will agree
with me that on the floor of the House ail members are
on a footing of equality. I make bold, therefore, to
approach you in a matter which I think capable of a
very different interpretation from that which perhaps was
put upon it by your friends. Will you let them know
that that was the case and that I was in no way swayed
by animus in the exercise of my magisterial duties, which
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 175
as you, as a brother magistrate, can imagine are frequently
very distasteful to — Yours very sincerely,
T. Ingell.
P.S. — I have seen to it that the motor vigilance to
which your friends took exception has been considerably
relaxed in my district.
4 What did you answer ? ' said Ollyett, when
all our opinions had been expressed.
1 1 told him I couldn't do anything in the
matter. And I couldn't — then. But you'll
remember to put in that foot-and-mouth para-
graph. I want something to work upon.'
' It seems to me The Bun has done all the
work up to date,' I suggested. ' When does The
Cake come in ? '
1 The Cake,' said Woodhouse, and I remembered
afterwards that he spoke like a Cabinet Minister
on the eve of a Budget, ' reserves to itself the
fullest right to deal with situations as they arise.'
' Ye-eh ! ' Bat Masquerier shook himself out
of his thoughts. ' " Situations as they arise." I
ain't idle either. But there's no use fishing till
the swim's baited. You ' — he turned to Ollyett —
'manufacture very good ground-bait. ... I always
tell My people What the deuce is that ? '
There was a burst of song from another private
dining-room across the landing. ' It ees some
ladies from the Trefoil,' the waiter began.
' Oh, I know that. What are they singing,
though ? '
He rose and went out, to be greeted by shouts
of applause from that merry company. Then
176 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
there was silence, such as one hears in the form-
room after a master's entry. Then a voice that
we loved began again : * Here we go gathering
nuts in May — nuts in May — nuts in May ! '
'It's only 'Dal — and some nuts,' he explained
when he returned. ' She says she's coming in to
dessert.' He sat down, humming the old tune to
himself, and till Miss Vidal Benzaguen entered,
he held us speechless with tales of the artistic
temperament.
We obeyed Pallant to the extent of slipping
into The Bun a wary paragraph about cows lying
down and dripping at the mouth, which might be
read either as an unkind libel or, in the hands of
a capable lawyer, as a piece of faithful nature-
study.
'And besides,' said Ollyett, 'we allude to
" gravid polled Angus." I am advised that no
action can lie in respect of virgin Shorthorns.
Pallant wants us to come to the House to-night.
He's got us places for the Strangers' Gallery. I'm
beginning to like Pallant.'
' Masquerier seems to like you,' I said.
' Yes, but I'm afraid of him,' Ollyett answered
with perfect sincerity. ' I am. He's the Absolutely
Amoral Soul. I've never met one yet.'
We went to the House together. It happened
to be an Irish afternoon, and as soon as I had got
the cries and the faces a little sorted out, I gathered
there were grievances in the air, but how many of
them was beyond me.
'It's all right,' said Ollyett of the trained
ear. ' They've shut their ports against — oh yes —
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 177
export of Irish cattle ! Foot-and-mouth disease at
Ballyhellion. / see Pallant's idea ! '
The House was certainly all mouth for the
moment, but, as I could feel, quite in earnest. A
Minister with a piece of typewritten paper seemed
. to be fending off volleys of insults. He reminded
me somehow of a nervous huntsman breaking up
a fox in the face of rabid hounds.
1 It's question-time. They're asking questions,'
said Ollyett. ' Look ! Pallant's up.*
There was no mistaking it. His voice, which
his enemies said was his one parliamentary asset,
silenced the hubbub as toothache silences mere
singing in the ears. He said :
1 Arising out of that, may I ask if any special
consideration has recently been shown in regard
to any suspected outbreak of this disease on this
side of the Channel ? '
He raised his hand ; it held a noon edition of
The Bun. We had thought it best to drop the
paragraph out of the later ones. He would have
continued, but something in a grey frock-coat
roared and bounded on a bench opposite, and
waved another Bun. It was Sir Thomas Ingell.
* As the owner of the herd so dastardly impli-
cated ' His voice was drowned in shouts of
* Order ! ' — the Irish leading.
4 What's wrong ? ' I asked Ollyett. ' He's
got his hat on his head, hasn't he ? '
* Yes, but his wrath should have been put as a
question.'
* Arising out of that, Mr. Speaker, Sirrr ! ' Sir
Thomas bellowed through a lull, ' are you aware
N
178 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
that — that all this is a conspiracy — part of a
dastardly conspiracy to make Huckley ridiculous
— to make us ridiculous ? Part of a deep-laid plot
to make me ridiculous, Mr. Speaker, Sir ! '
The man's face showed almost black against
his white whiskers, and he struck out swimmingly
with his arms. His vehemence puzzled and held
the House for an instant, and the Speaker took
advantage of it to lift his pack from Ireland to a
new scent. He addressed Sir Thomas Ingell in
tones of measured rebuke, meant also, I imagine,
for the whole House, which lowered its hackles at
the word. Then Pallant, shocked and pained :
* I can only express my profound surprise that in
response to my simple question the honourable
member should have thought fit to indulge in a
personal attack. If I have in any way offended '
Again the Speaker intervened, for it appeared
that he regulated these matters.
He, too. expressed surprise, and Sir Thomas sat
back in a hush of reprobation that seemed to have
the chill of the centuries behind it. The Empire's
work was resumed.
' Beautiful ! ' said I, and I felt hot and cold up
my back.
' And now we'll publish his letter,' said OJlyett.
We did — on the heels of his carefully reported
outburst. We made no comment. With that rare
instinct for grasping the heart of a situation which
is the mark of the Anglo-Saxon, all our contem-
poraries and, I should say, two- thirds of our
correspondents demanded how such a person could
be made more ridiculous than he had already proved
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 179
himself to be. But beyond spelling his name
' Injle,' we alone refused to hit a man when he
was down.
" There's no need,' said Ollyett. ' The whole
press is on the huckle from end to end.'
Even Woodhouse was a little astonished at the
ease with which it had come about, and said as much.
' Rot ! ' said Ollyett. « We haven't really
begun. Huckley isn't news yet.'
• What do you mean ? ' said Woodhouse, who
had grown to have great respect for his young but
by no means distant connection.
( Mean ? By the grace of God, Master Ridley,
I mean to have it so that when Huckley turns
over in its sleep, Reuters and the Press Association
jump out of bed to cable.' Then he went off at
score about certain restorations in Huckley Church
which, he said — and he seemed to spend his every
week-end there — had been perpetrated by the
Rector's predecessor, who had abolished a ' leper-
window ' or a ' squinch-hole ' (whatever these may
be) to institute a lavatory in the vestry. It did
not strike me as stuff for which Reuters or the
Press Association would lose much sleep, and I
left him declaiming to Woodhouse about a
fourteenth-century font which, he said, he had
unearthed in the sexton's tool-shed.
My methods were more on the lines of peaceful
penetration. An odd copy, in The Buns rag-and-
bone library, of Hone's Every -Day Book had
revealed to me the existence of a village dance
founded, like all village dances, on Druidical
mysteries connected with the Solar Solstice (which
180 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
is always unchallengeable) and Midsummer Morning,
which is dewy and refreshing to the London eye.
For this I take no credit — Hone being a mine
any one can work — but that I rechristened that
dance, after I had revised it, ' The Gubby ' is my
title to immortal fame. It was still to be witnessed,
I wrote, * in all its poignant purity at Huckley,
that last home of significant mediaeval survivals ' ;
and I fell so in love with my creation that I kept
it back for days, enamelling and burnishing.
1 You's better put it in,' said Ollyett at last.
' It's time we asserted ourselves again. The other
fellows are beginning to poach. You saw that
thing in the Pinnacle about Sir Thomas's Model
Village ? He must have got one of their chaps
down to do it.'
''Nothing like the wounds of a friend,' I said.
1 That account of the non-alcoholic pub alone
was-
' I liked the bit best about the white-tiled
laundry and the Fallen Virgins who wash Sir
Thomas's dress shirts. Our side couldn't come
within a mile, of that, you know. We haven't
the proper flair for sexual slobber.'
' That's what I'm always saying,' I retorted.
1 Leave 'em alone. The other fellows are doing
our work for us now. Besides I want to touch
up my " Gubby Dance " a little more.'
' No. You'll spoil it. Let's shove it in to-day.
For one thing it's Literature. I don't go in for
compliments as you know, but, etc. etc'
I had a healthy suspicion of young Ollyett in
every aspect, but though I knew that I should
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 181
have to pay for it, I fell to his flattery, and my
priceless article on the ' Gubby Dance ' appeared.
Next Saturday he asked me to bring out The
Bun in his absence, which I naturally assumed
would be connected with the little maroon side-car.
I was wrong.
On the following Monday I glanced at The
Cake at breakfast-time to make sure, as usual, of
her inferiority to my beloved but unremunerative
Bun. I opened on a heading : * The Village that
Voted the Earth was Flat.' I read ... I read that
the Geoplanarian Society — a society devoted to the
proposition that the earth is flat — had held its
Annual Banquet and Exercises at Huckley on
Saturday, when after convincing addresses, amid
scenes of the greatest enthusiasm, Huckley village
had decided by an unanimous vote of 438 that the
earth was flat. 1 do not remember that I breathed
again till I had finished the two columns of
description that followed. Only one man could
have written them. They were flawless — crisp,
nervous, austere yet human, poignant, vital,
arresting — most distinctly arresting — dynamic
enough to shift a city — and quotable by whole
sticks at a time. And there was a leader, a grave
and poised leader, which tore me in two with
mirth, until I remembered that I had been left
out — infamously and unjustifiably dropped. I
went to Ollyett's rooms. He was breakfasting,
and, to do him justice, looked conscience-stricken.
' It wasn't my fault,' he began. ' It was Bat
Masquerier. I swear / would have asked you to
come if '
1 82 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* Never mind that,' I said. ' It's the best bit
of work, you've ever done or will do. Did any of
it happen ? '
' Happen ? Heavens ! D'you think even 1
could have invented it ? '
1 Is it exclusive to The Cake} ' I cried.
* It cost Bat Masquerier two thousand,' Ollyett
replied. ' D'you think he'd let any one else in on
that ? But I give you my sacred word I knew
nothing: about it till he asked me to come down
and cover it. He had Huckley posted in three
colours, " The Geoplanarians' Annual Banquet and
Exercises." Yes, he invented " Geoplanarians."
He wanted Huckley to think it meant aeroplanes.
Yes, I know that there is a real Society that thinks
the world's flat — they ought to be grateful for the
lift — but Bat made his own. He did ! He created
the whole show, I tell you. He swept out half
his Halls for the job. Think of that — on a
Saturday ! They — we went down in motor char-a-
bancs — three of 'em — one pink, one primrose, and
one forget-me-not blue — twenty people in each
one and " The Earth is Flat " on each side and
across the back. I went with Teddy Rickets and
Lafone from the Trefoil, and both the Silhouette
Sisters, and — wait a minute ! — the Crossleigh Trio.
You know the Every-Day Dramas Trio at the
Jocunda — Ada Crossleigh, "Bunt" Crossleigh,
and little Victorine ? Them. And there was Hoke
Ramsden, the lightning-change chap in Morgiana
and Drexel — and there was Billy Turpeen. Yes,
you know him ! The North London Star. " I'm
the Referee that got himself disliked at Blackheath."
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 183
That chap ! And there was Mackaye — that one-
eyed Scotch fellow that all Glasgow is crazy about.
Talk of subordinating yourself for Art's sake !
Mackaye was the earnest inquirer who got
converted at the end of the meeting. And there
was quite a lot of girls I didn't know, and — oh,
yes — there was 'Dal ! 'Dal Benzaguen herself !
We sat together, going and coming. She's all the
darling there ever was. She sent you her love,
and she told me to tell you that she won't forget
about Nellie Farren. She says you've given her
an ideal to work for. She ? Oh, she was the
Lady Secretary to the Geoplanarians, of course.
I forget who were in the other brakes — provincial
stars mostly — but they played up gorgeously. The
art of the music-hall's changed since your day.
They didn't overdo it a bit. You see, people who
believe the earth is flat don't dress quite like
other people. You may have noticed that I hinted
at that in my account. It's a rather flat-fronted
Ionic style — neo -Victorian, except for the bustles,
'Dai told me, — but 'Dal looked heavenly in it !
So did little Victorine. And there was a girl in
the blue brake — she's a provincial — but she's
coming to town this winter and she'll knock 'em
— Winnie Deans. Remember that ! She told
Huckley how she had suffered for the Cause as a
governess in a rich family where they believed
that the world is round, and how she threw up her
job sooner than teach immoral geography. That
was at the overflow meeting outside the Baptist
chapel. She knocked 'em to sawdust! We must
look out for Winnie. . . . But Lafone ! Lafone
i84 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
was beyond everything. Impact, personality —
conviction — the whole bag o' tricks ! He sweated
conviction. Gad, he convinced me while he was
speaking ! (Him ? He was President of the
Geoplanarians, of course. Haven't you read my
account ?) It is an infernally plausible theory.
After all, no one has actually proved the earth is
round, have they ? '
' Never mind the earth. What about Huckley ? '
' Oh, Huckley got tight. That's the worst of
these model villages if you let 'em smell fire-water.
There's one alcoholic pub in the place that Sir
Thomas can't get rid of. Bat made it his base.
He sent down the banquet in two motor lorries
— dinner for five hundred and drinks for ten
thousand. Huckley voted all right. Don't you
make any mistake about that. No vote, no
dinner. A unanimous vote — exactly as I've said.
At least, the Rector and the Doctor were the only
dissentients. We didn't count them. Oh yes,
Sir Thomas was there. He came and grinned at
us through his park gates. He'll grin worse
to-day. There's an aniline dye that you rub
through a stencil-plate that eats about a foot into
any stone and wears good to the last. Bat had
both the lodge-gates stencilled "The Earth- is
flat ! " and all the barns and walls they could get
at. . . . Oh Lord, but Huckley was drunk !
We had to fill 'em up to make 'em forgive us for
not being aeroplanes. Unthankful yokels ! D'you
realise that Emperors couldn't have commanded
the talent Bat decanted on 'em ? Why, 'Dal
alone was. . , . And by eight o'clock not even
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 185
a bit of paper left ! The whole show packed up
and gone, and Huckley hoo-raying for the earth
being flat.'
' Very good,' I began. ' I am, as you know,
a one-third proprietor of The Bun.'
' I didn't forget that,' Ollyett interrupted.
' That was uppermost in my mind all the time.
I've got a special account for The Bun to-day —
it's an idyll — and just to show how I thought
of you, I told 'Dal, coming home, about
your Gubby Dance, and she told Winnie.
Winnie came back in our char-a-banc. After a
bit we had to get out and dance it in a field. It's
quite a dance the way we did it — and Lafone
invented a sort of gorilla lockstep procession at
the end. Bat had sent down a film-chap on the
chance of getting something. He was the son of
a clergyman — a most dynamic personality. He
said there isn't anything for the cinema in
meetings qua meetings — they lack action. Films
are a branch of art by themselves. But he went
wild over the Gubby. He said it was like Peter's
vision at Joppa. He took about a million feet
of it. Then I photoed it exclusive for The Bun.
I've sent 'em in already, only remember we must
eliminate Winnie's left leg in the first figure.
It's too arresting. . . . And there you are ! But
I tell you I'm afraid of Bat. That man's the
Personal Devil. He did it all. He didn't even
come down himself. He said he'd distract his
people.'
' WThy didn't he ask me to come ? ' I persisted.
* Because he said you'd distract me. He said
1 86 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
he wanted my brains on ice. He got 'em. I
believe it's the best thing I've ever done.' He
reached for The Cake and re-read it luxuriously.
' Yes, out and away the best — supremely quotable,'
he concluded, and — after another survey — ' By
God, what a genius I was yesterday ! '
I v/ould have been angry, but I had not the
time. That morning, Press agencies grovelled to
me in The Bun office for leave to use certain photos,
which, they understood, I controlled, of a certain
village dance. When I had sent the fifth man
away on the edge of tears, my self-respect came
back a little. Then there was The Buns poster
to get out. Art being elimination, I fined it
down to two words (one too many, as it proved)
— ' The Gubby ! ' in red, at which our manager
protested ; but by five o'clock, he told me that
I was the Napoleon of Fleet Street. Ollyett's
account in The Bun of the Geoplanarians' Exercises
and Love Feast lacked the supreme shock of
his version in The Cake, but it bruised more ;
while the photos of ' The Gubby ' (which, with
Winnie's left leg, was why I had set the doubtful
press to work so early) were beyond praise and,
next day, beyond price. But even then I did not
understand.
A week later, I think it was, Bat Masquerier
telephoned to me to come to the Trefoil.
* It's your turn now,' he said. * I'm not asking
Ollyett. Come to the stage-box.'
I went, and, as Bat's guest, was received as
Royalty is not. We sat well back and looked
out on the packed thousands. It was Morgiana and
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 187
Drexely that fluid and electric review which Bat —
though he gave Lafone the credit — really created.
'Ye-es,' said Bat dreamily, after Morgiana had
given ' the nasty jar ' to the Forty Thieves in
their forty oil 'combinations.' 'As you say, I've
got 'em and I can hold 'em. What a man does
doesn't matter much ; and how he does it don't
matter either. It's the when — the psychological
moment. 'Press can't make up for it ; money
can't ; brains can't. A lot's luck, but all the
rest is genius. I'm not speaking about My people
now. I'm talking of Myself.'
Then 'Dal — she was the only one who dared —
knocked at the door and stood behind us all alive
and panting as Morgiana. Lafone was carrying
the police-court scene, and the house was ripped
up crossways with laughter.
' Ah ! Tell a fellow now,' she asked me for the
twentieth time, ' did you love Nellie Farren when
you were young ? '
' Did we love her ? ' I answered. ' " If the
earth and the sky and the sea " — There were three
million of us, 'Dal, and we worshipped her.'
* How did she get it across ? ' 'Dal went on.
' She was Nellie. The houses used to coo
over her when she came on.'
' I've had a good deal, but I've never been cooed
over yet,' said 'Dal wistfully.
' It isn't the how, it's the when,' Bat repeated.
'Ah!'
He leaned forward as the house began to rock
and peal full-throatedly. 'Dal fled. A sinuous
and silent procession was filing into the police-
1 88 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
court to a scarcely audible accompaniment. It
was dressed — but the world and all its picture-
palaces know how it was dressed. It danced and
it danced, and it danced the dance which bit all
humanity in the leg for half a year, and it wound
up with the lockstep finale that mowed the house
down in swathes, sobbing and aching. Somebody
in the gallery moaned, 'Oh Gord, the Gubby!'
and we heard the word run like a shudder, for they
had not a full breath left among them. Then
'Dal came on, an electric star in her dark hair, the
diamonds flashing in her three-inch heels — a vision
that made no sign for thirty counted seconds while
the police-court scene dissolved behind her into
Morgiana's Manicure Palace, and they recovered
themselves. The star on her forehead went out,
and a soft light bathed her as she took — slowly,
slowly to the croon of adoring strings — the
eighteen paces forward. We saw her first as a
queen alone ; next as a queen for the first time
conscious of her subjects, and at the end, when
her hands fluttered, as a woman delighted, awed
not a little, but transfigured and illuminated with
sheer, compelling affection and goodwill. I caught
the broken mutter of welcome — the coo which is
more than tornadoes of applause. It died and
rose and died again lovingly.
' She's got it across/ Bat whispered. c I've
never seen her like this. I told her to light up
the star, but I was wrong, and she knew it. She's
an artist.'
' 'Dal, you darling ! ' some one spoke, not loudly
but it carried through the house.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 189
* Thank you ! ' 'Dal answered, and in that broken
tone one heard the last fetter riveted. * Good
evening, boys! I've just come from — now — where
the dooce was it I have come from ? ' She turned
to the impassive files of the Gubby dancers, and
went on : * Ah, so good of you to remind me,
you dear, bun-faced things. I've just come from
the village — The Village that Voted the Earth
was Flat.'
She swept into that song with the full orchestra.
It devastated the habitable earth for the next
six months. Imagine, then, what its rage and
pulse must have been at the incandescent hour of
its birth ! She only gave the chorus once. At
the end of the second verse, * Are you with me,
boys ? ' she cried, and the house tore it clean away
from her — ' Earth was flat — Earth was flat. Flat
as my hat — Flatter than that ' — drowning all but
the bassoons and double-basses that marked the
word.
1 Wonderful,' I said to Bat. ' And it's only
" Nuts in May " with variations.'
1 Yes — but / did the variations,' he replied.
At the last verse she gestured to Carlini the
conductor, who threw her up his baton. She
caught it with a boy's ease. * Are you with me ? '
she cried once more, and— the maddened house
behind her — abolished all the instruments except
the guttural belch of the double-basses on ' Earth '
— ' The Village that voted the Earth was flat —
Earth was flat ! ' It was delirium. Then she
picked up the Gubby dancers and led them in a
clattering improvised lockstep thrice round the
1 9o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
stage till her last kick sent her diamond-hiked
shoe catherine-wheeling to the electrolier.
I saw the forest of hands raised to catch it,
heard the roaring and stamping pass through
hurricanes to full typhoon ; heard the song, pinned
down by the faithful double-basses as the bull-dog
pins down the bellowing bull, overbear even those ;
till at last the curtain fell and Bat took me round
to her dressing-room, where she lay spent after her
seventh call. Still the song, through all those
white-washed walls, shook the reinforced concrete
of the Trefoil as steam pile-drivers shake the flanks
of a dock.
' I'm all out — first time in my life. Ah ! Tell
a fellow now, did I get it across ? ' she whispered
huskily.
* You know you did,' I replied as she dipped
her nose deep in a beaker of barley-water. ' They
cooed over you.'
Bat nodded. 'And poor Nellie's dead — in
Africa, ain't it ? '
' 1 hope I'll die before they stop cooing,' said
'Dal.
' " Earth was flat — Earth was flat ! " Now it
was more like mine-pumps in flood.
' They'll have the house down if you don't
take another,' some one called.
1 Bless 'em ! ' said 'Dal, and went out for her
eighth, when in the face of that cataract she said
yawning, ' I don't know how you feel, children, but
7'm dead. You be quiet.'
' Hold a minute,' said Bat to me. ' I've got to
hear how it went in the provinces. Winnie Deans
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 191
had it in Manchester, and Ramsden at Glasgow —
and there are all the films too. I had rather a
heavy week-end.'
The telephones presently reassured him.
' It'll do,' said he„ ' And he said my home
address was Jerusalem.' He left me humming
the refrain of * The Holy City.' Like Ollyett I
found myself afraid of that man.
When I got out into the street and met the
disgorging picture-palaces capering on the pave-
ments and humming it (for he had put the
gramophones on with the films), and when I saw
far to the south the red electrics flash ' Gubby '
across the Thames, I feared more than ever.
A few days passed which were like nothing
except, perhaps, a suspense of fever in which
the sick man perceives the searchlights of the
world's assembled navies in act to converge on
one minute fragment of wreckage — one only in all
the black and agony-strewn sea. Then those
beams focussed themselves. Earth as we knew it
— the full circuit of our orb — laid the weight of its
impersonal and searing curiosity on this Huckley
which had voted that it was flat. It asked for
news about Huckley — where and what it might
be, and how it talked — it knew how it danced —
and how it thought in its wonderful soul. And
then, in all the zealous, merciless press, Huckley
was laid out for it to look at, as a drop of pond
water is exposed on the sheet of a magic-lantern
show. But Huckley's sheet was only coterminous
with the use of type among mankind. For the
1 92 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
precise moment that was necessary, Fate ruled it
that there should be nothing of first importance in
the world's idle eye. One atrocious murder, a
political crisis, an incautious or heady continental
statesman, the mere catarrh of a king, would have
wiped out the significance of our message, as a
passing cloud annuls the urgent helio. But it was
halcyon weather in every respect. Ollyett and I
did not need to lift our little fingers any more
than the Alpine climber whose last sentence has
unkeyed the arch of the avalanche. The thing
roared and pulverised and swept beyond eyesight
all by itself — all by itself. And once well away,
the fall of kingdoms could not have diverted it.
Ours is, after all, a kindly earth. While The
Song ran and raped it with the cataleptic kick
of ' Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay,' multiplied by the West
African significance of ■ Everybody's doing it,' plus
twice the infernal elementality of a certain tune in
Dona et Gamma ; when for all practical purposes,
literary, dramatic, artistic, social, municipal, political,
commercial, and administrative, the Earth was flat,
the Rector of Huckley wrote to us — again as a
lover of accuracy — to point out that the Huckley
vote on ' the alleged flatness of this scene of our
labours here below ' was not unanimous ; he and
the doctor having voted against it. And the
great Baron Reuter himself (I am sure it could
have been none other) flashed that letter in full
to the front, back, and both wings of this scene
of our labours. For Huckley was News. The
Ban also contributed a photograph which cost me
some trouble to fake.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 193
' We are a vital nation,' said Ollyett while we
were discussing affairs at a Bat dinner. ' Only an
Englishman could have written that letter at this
present juncture.'
' It reminded me of a tourist in the Cave of the
Winds under Niagara. Just one figure in a
mackintosh. But perhaps you saw our photo ? '
I said proudly.
* Yes,' Bat replied. ' I've been to Niagara, too.
And how's Huckley taking it ? '
' They don't quite understand, of course,' said
Ollyett. ' But it's bringing pots of money into
the place. Ever since the motor-bus excursions
were started '
' I didn't know they had been,' said Pallant.
'Oh yes. Motor char-a-bancs — uniformed
guides and key-bugles included. They're getting
a bit fed up with the tune there nowadays,'
Ollyett added.
' They play it under his windows, don't they ? '
Bat asked. ' He can't stop the right of way across
his park.'
' He cannot,' Ollyett answered. * By the way,
Woodhouse, I've bought that font for you from
the sexton. I paid fifteen pounds for it.'
1 What am I supposed to do with it ? ' asked
Woodhouse.
'You give it to the Victoria and Albert Museum.
It is fourteenth-century work all right. You can
trust me.'
' Is it worth it — now ? ' said Pallant. ' Not that
I'm weakening, but merely as a matter of tactics ? '
' But this is true,' said Ollyett. ' Besides, it is
o
194 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
my hobby, I always wanted to be an architect.
I'll attend to it myself. It's too serious for The
Bun and miles too good for The Cake.'
He broke ground in a ponderous architectural
weekly, which had never heard of Huckley. There
was no passion in his statement, but mere fact
backed by a wide range of authorities. He
established beyond doubt that the old font at
Huckley had been thrown out, on Sir Thomas's
instigation, twenty years ago, to make room for a
new one of Bath stone adorned with Limoges
enamels ; and that it had lain ever since in a corner
of the sexton's shed. He proved, with learned
men to support him, that there was only one other
font in all England to compare with it. So
Woodhouse bought it and presented it to a grate-
ful South Kensington which said it would see the
earth still flatter before it returned the treasure to
purblind Huckley. Bishops by the benchful and
most of the Royal Academy, not to mention
' Margaritas ante Porcos,* wrote fervently to the
papers. Punch based a political cartoon on it ;
the Times a third leader, l The Lust of Newness ' ;
and the Spectator a scholarly and delightful middle,
' Village Hausmania.' The vast amused outside
world said in all its tongues and types : ' ' Of
course ! This is just what Huckley would do ! '
And neither Sir Thomas nor the Rector nor the
sexton nor any one else wrote to deny it.
' You see,' said Ollyett, ' this is much more
of a blow to Huckley than it looks — because every
word of it's true. Your Gubby dance was inspira-
tion, I admit, but it hadn't its roots in >'
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 195
1 Two hemispheres and four continents so far,'
I pointed out.
* Its roots in the hearts of Huckley was what I
was going to say. Why don't you ever come down
and look at the place ? You've never seen it since
we were stopped there.'
1 I've only my week-ends free,' I said, ' and you
seem to spend yours there pretty regularly — with
the side-car. I was afraid '
' Oh, thai 's all right,' he said cheerily. ' We're
quite an old engaged couple now. As a matter of
fact, it happened after " the gravid polled Angus "
business. Come along this Saturday. Woodhouse
says he'll run us down after lunch. He wants to
see Huckley too.'
Pallant could not accompany us, but Bat took
his place.
' It's odd,' said Bat, ' that none of us except
Ollyett has ever set eyes on Huckley since that
time. That's what I always tell My people. Local
colour is all right after you've got your idea.
Before that, it's a mere nuisance.' He regaled us
on the way down with panoramic views of the
success — geographical and financial — of 'The
Gubby ' and The Song.
' By the way,' said he, ' I've assigned 'Dal all
the gramophone rights of " The Earth." She's a
born artist. 'Hadn't sense enough to hit me for
triple-dubs the morning after. She'd have taken
it" out in coos.'
' Bless her ! And what'll she make out of the
gramophone rights? ' 1 asked.
' Lord knows ! ' he replied. ' I've made fifty-
196 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
four thousand my little end of the business, and
it's only just beginning. Hear that ! '
A shell-pink motor-brake roared up behind us
to the music on a key-bugle of ' The Village that
Voted the Earth was Flat.' In a few minutes we
overtook another, in natural wood, whose occupants
were singing it through their noses.
' I don't know that agency. It must be Cook's,'
said Ollyett. ' They do suffer.' We were never
out of ear-shot of the tune the rest of the way to
Huckley.
Though I knew it would be so, I was dis-
appointed with the actual aspect of the spot we had
— it is not too much to say — created in the face
of the nations. The alcoholic pub ; the village
green ; the Baptist chapel ; the church ; the
sexton's shed ; the Rectory whence the so- wonder-
ful letters had come ; Sir Thomas's park gate-
pillars still violently declaring ' The Earth is fiat,'
were as mean, as average, as ordinary as the
photograph of a room where a murder has been
committed. Ollyett, who, of course, knew the
place specially well, made the most of it to us.
Bat, who had employed it as a back-cloth to one
of his own dramas, dismissed it as a thing used and
emptied, but Woodhouse expressed my feelings
when he said : ' Is that all — after all we've done ? '
' /know,' said Ollyett soothingly. ' " Like that
strange song I heard Apollo sing : When Ilion
like a mist rose into towers." I've felt the same
sometimes, though it has been Paradise for me.
But they do suffer.'
The fourth brake in thirty minutes had just
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 197
turned into Sir Thomas's park to tell the Hall
that * The Earth was flat ' ; a knot of obviously
American tourists were kodaking his lodge gates ;
while the tea-shop opposite the lych-gate was full
of people buying postcards of the old font as it
had lain twenty years in the sexton's shed. We
went to the alcoholic pub and congratulated the
proprietor.
* It's bringin' money to the place,' said he.
' But in a sense you can buy money too dear. It
isn't doin' us any good. People are laughin' at
us. That's what they're doin'. . . . Now, with
regard to that Vote of ours you may have heard
talk about. . . .'
4 For Gorze sake, chuck that votin' business,'
cried an elderly man at the door. * Money-gettin'
or no money-gettin', we're fed up with it.'
' Well, I do think,' said the publican, shifting
his ground, ' I do think Sir Thomas might ha'
managed better in some things.'
' He tole me,' — the elderly man shouldered his
way to the bar — ' he tole me twenty years ago to
take an' lay that font in my tool-shed. He tole me
so himself. An' now, after twenty years, me own
wife makin' me out little better than the common
'angman ! '
'That's the sexton,' the publican explained.
' His good lady sells the postcards — if you 'aven't
got some. But we feel Sir Thomas might ha'
done better.'
1 What's he got to do with it ? ' said Wood-
house.
' There's nothin' we can trace 'ome to 'im in so
198 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
many words, but we think he might 'ave saved us
the font business. Now, in regard to that votin'
business '
' Chuck it ! Oh, chuck it ! ' the sexton roared,
' or you'll 'ave me cuttin' my throat at cock-crow.
'Ere's another parcel of fun-makers ! '
A motor-brake had pulled up at the door and
a multitude of men and women immediately
descended. We went cut to look. They bore
rolled banners, a reading-desk in three pieces, and,
I specially noticed, a collapsible harmonium, such
as is used on ships at sea.
' Salvation Army ? ' I said, though I saw no
uniforms.
Two of them unfurled a banner between poles
which bore the legend : ' The Earth is flat.'
Woodhouse and I turned to Bat. He shook his
head. ' No, no ! Not me. ... If I had only
seen their costumes in advance ! '
* Good Lord ! ' said Ollyett. ' It's the genuine
Society ! '
The company advanced on the green with the
precision of people well broke to these movements.
Scene-shifters could not have been quicker with
the three-piece rostrum, nor stewards with the
harmonium. Almost before its cross-legs " had
been kicked into their catches, certainly before the
tourists by the lodge-gates had begun to move over,
a woman sat down to it and struck up a hymn :
Hear ther truth our tongues are telling,
Spread ther light from shore to shore,
God hath given man a dwelling
Flat and flat for evermore.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 199
When ther Primal Dark retreated,
When ther deeps were undesigned,
He with rule and level meted
Habitation for mankind !
I saw sick envy on Bat's face. ' Curse Nature,'
he muttered. ' She gets ahead of you every time.
To think / forgot hymns and a harmonium ! '
Then came the chorus :
Hear ther truth our tongues are telling,
Spread ther light from shore to shore —
Oh, be faithful ! Oh, be truthful !
Earth is flat for evermore.
They sang several verses with the fervour of
Christians awaiting their lions. Then there were
growlings in the air. The sexton, embraced by
the landlord, two-stepped out of the pub-door.
Each was trying to outroar the other. ' Apologis-
ing in advarnce for what he says,' the landlord
shouted : ' You'd better go away ' (here the sexton
began to speak words). * This isn't the time nor
yet the place for — for any more o' this chat.'
The crowd thickened. I saw the village police-
sergeant come out of his cottage buckling his
belt.
' But surely,' said the woman at the harmonium,
' there must be some mistake. We are not suffra-
gettes.'
' Damn it ! They'd be a change,' cried the
sexton. * You get out of this ! Don't talk ! I
can't stand it for one ! Get right out, or we'll
font you ! '
The crowd which was being recruited from
every house in sight echoed the invitation. The
200 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
sergeant pushed forward. A man beside the
reading-desk said : * But surely we are among
dear friends and sympathisers. Listen to me for
a moment.'
It was the moment that a passing char-a-banc
chose to strike into The Song. The effect was
instantaneous. Bat, Ollyett, and I, who by divers
roads have learned the psychology of crowds,
retreated towards the tavern door. Woodhouse,
the newspaper proprietor, anxious, I presume, to
keep touch with the public, dived into the thick of
it. Every one else told the Society to go away at
once. When the lady at the harmonium (I began
to understand why it is sometimes necessary to
kill women) pointed at the stencilled park pillars
and called them ' the cromlechs of our common
faith,' there was a snarl and a rush. The police-
sergeant checked it, but advised the Society to
keep on going. The Society withdrew into the
brake fighting, as it were, a rearguard action of
oratory up each step. The collapsed harmonium
was hauled in last, and with the perfect unreason
of crowds, they cheered it loudly, till the chauffeur
slipped in his clutch and sped away. Then the
crowd broke up, congratulating all concerned
except the sexton, who was held to have disgraced
his office by having sworn at ladies. We strolled
across the green towards Woodhouse, who was
talking to the police-sergeant near the park-gates.
We were not twenty yards from him when we
saw Sir Thomas Ingell emerge from the lodge and
rush furiously at Woodhouse with an uplifted
stick, at the same time shrieking : ' I'll teach you
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 201
to laugh, you ' but Ollyett has the record of
the language. By the time we reached them, Sir
Thomas was on the ground ; Woodhouse, very
white, held the walking-stick and was saying to
the sergeant :
' I give this person in charge for assault.'
' But, good Lord ! ' said the sergeant, whiter
than Woodhouse. ' It's Sir Thomas.'
' Whoever it is, it isn't fit to be at large,' said
Woodhouse. The crowd suspecting something
wrong began to reassemble, and all the English
horror of a row in public moved us, headed by
the sergeant, inside the lodge. We shut both
park-gates and lodge-door.
' You saw the assault, sergeant,' Woodhouse
went on. ' You can testify I used no more force
than was necessary to protect myself. You can
testify that I have not even damaged this person's
property. (Here ! take your stick, you !) You
heard the filthy language he used.'
' I — I can't say I did,' the sergeant stammered.
' Oh, but we did ! ' said Ollyett, and repeated
it, to the apron-veiled horror of the lodge-keeper's
wife.
Sir Thomas on a hard kitchen chair began to
talk. He said he had ' stood enough of being
photographed like a wild beast,' and expressed
loud regret that he had not killed ' that man,' who
was ' conspiring with the sergeant to laugh at him.'
' 'Ad you ever seen 'im before, Sir Thomas ? '
the sergeant asked.
1 No ! But it's time an example was made
here. I've never seen the sweep in my life.'
202 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
I think it was Bat Masquerier's magnetic eye
that recalled the past to him, for his face changed
and his jaw dropped. * But I have ! ' he groaned.
' I remember now.'
Here a writhing man entered by the back
door. He was, he said, the village solicitor. I do
not assert that he licked Woodhouse's boots, but
we should have respected him more if he had and
been done with it. His notion was that the
matter could be accommodated, arranged and com-
promised for gold, and yet more gold. The ser-
geant thought so too. Woodhouse undeceived
them both. To the sergeant he said, * Will you
or will you not enter the charge ? ' To the village
solicitor he gave the name of his lawyers, at which
the man wrung his hands and cried, ' Oh, Sir T.,
Sir T. ! ' in a miserable falsetto, for it was a Bat
Masquerier of a firm. They conferred together
in tragic whispers.
* I don't dive after Dickens,' said Ollyett to Bat
and me by the window, * but every time / get into
a row I notice the police-court always fills up
with his characters.'
' I've noticed that too,' said Bat. ' But the odd
thing is you mustn't give the public straight
Dickens — not in My business. I wonder why
that is.'
Then Sir Thomas got his second wind and
cursed the day that he, or it may have been we,
were born. I feared that though he was a Radical
he might apologise and, since he was an M.P.,
might lie his way out of the difficulty. But he
was utterly and truthfully beside himself. He
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 203
asked foolish questions — such as what we were
doing in the village at all, and how much black-
mail Woodhouse expected to make out of him.
But neither Woodhouse nor the sergeant nor the
writhing solicitor listened. The upshot of their
talk, in the chimney-corner, was that Sir Thomas
stood engaged to appear next Monday before his
brother magistrates on charges of assault, disorderly
conduct, and language calculated, etc. Ollyett was
specially careful about the language.
Then we left. The village looked very pretty
in the late light — pretty and tuneful as a nest of
nightingales.
' You'll turn up on Monday, I hope,' said
Woodhouse, when we reached town. That was
his only allusion to the affair.
So we turned up — through a world still singing
that the Earth was flat — at the little clay-coloured
market-town with the large Corn Exchange and the
small Jubilee memorial. We had some difficulty
in getting seats in the court. Woodhouse's im-
ported London lawyer was a man of commanding
personality, with a voice trained to convey blasting
imputations by tone. When the case was called,
he rose and stated his client's intention not to pro-
ceed with the charge. His client, he went on to
say, had not entertained, and, of course, in the cir-
cumstances could not have entertained, any sugges-
tion of accepting on behalf of public charities any
moneys that might have been offered to him on
the part of Sir Thomas's estate. At the same time,
no one acknowledged more sincerely than his client
the spirit in which those offers had been made by
2o4 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
those entitled to make them. But, as a matter
of fact — here he became the man of the world
colloguing with his equals — certain — er — details
had come to his client's knowledge since the lament-
able outburst, which . . . He shrugged his shoulders.
Nothing was served by going into them, but he
ventured to say that, had those painful circum-
stances only been known earlier, his client would —
again ' of course ' — never have dreamed A
gesture concluded the sentence, and the ensnared
Bench looked at Sir Thomas with new and with-
drawing eyes. Frankly, as they could see, it
would be nothing less than cruelty to proceed
further with this — er — unfortunate affair. He
asked leave, therefore, to withdraw the charge in
toto, and at the same time to express his client's
deepest sympathy with all who had been in any
way distressed, as his client had been, by the fact
and the publicity of proceedings which he could,
of course, again assure them that his client would
never have dreamed of instituting if, as he hoped
he had made plain, certain facts had been before
his client at the time when . . . But he had said
enough. For his fee it seemed to me that he had.
Heaven inspired Sir Thomas's lawyer — all of a
sweat lest his client's language should come out —
to rise up and thank him. Then, Sir Thomas —
not yet aware what leprosy had been laid upon
him, but grateful to escape on any terms — followed
suit. He was heard in interested silence, and
people drew back a pace as Gehazi passed forth.
' You hit hard,' said Bat to Woodhouse after-
wards. * His own people think he's mad.'
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 205
1 You don't say so ? I'll show you some of his
letters to-night at dinner,' he replied.
He brought them to the Red Amber Room of
the Chop Suey. We forgot to be amazed, as till
then we had been amazed, over the Song or ' The
Gubby,' or the full tide of Fate that seemed to
run only for our sakes. It did not even interest
Ollyett that the verb ' to huckle ' had passed into
the English leader-writers' language. We were
studying the interior of a soul, flash-lighted to its
grimiest corners by the dread of ' losing its
position.'
' And then it thanked you, didn't it, for drop-
ping the case ? ' said Pallant.
'Yes, and it sent me a telegram to confirm.'
Woodhouse turned to Bat. ' Now d'you think I
hit too hard ? ' he asked.
' No — o ! ' said Bat. ' After all — I'm talking
of every one's business now — one can't ever do
anything in Art that comes up to Nature in any
game in life. Just think how this thing has '
'Just let me run through that little case of
yours again,' said Pallant, and picked up The Bun
which had it set out in full.
' Any chance of 'Dal looking in on us to-night r '
Ollyett began.
' She's occupied with her Art too,' Bat answered
bitterly. ' What's the use of Art ? Tell me,
some one ! ' A barrel-org?n outside promptly
pointed out that the Earth was flat. ' The gramo-
phone's killing street organs, but J let loose a
hundred-and-seventy-four of those hurdygurdys
twelve hours after The Song,' said Bat. ' Not
206 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
counting the Provinces.' His face brightened a
little.
* Look here ! ' said Pallant over the paper.
' I don't suppose you or those asinine J.P.'s knew
it — but your lawyer ought to have known that
you've all put your foot in it most confoundedly
over this assault case.'
* What's the matter ? ' said Woodhouse.
* It's ludicrous. It's insane. There isn't two
penn'orth of legality in the whole thing. Of
course, you could have withdrawn the charge, but
the way you went about it is childish — besides
being illegal. What on earth was the Chief
Constable thinking of ? '
' Oh, he was a friend of Sir Thomas's. They
all were for that matter,' I replied.
' He ought to be hanged. So ought the Chair-
man of the Bench. I'm talking as a lawyer now.'
* Why, what have we been guilty of? Mis-
prision of treason or compounding a felony — or
what ? ' said Ollyett.
* I'll tell you later.' Pallant went back to the
paper with knitted brows, smiling unpleasantly
from time to time. At last he laughed.
' Thank you ! ' he said to Woodhouse. ' It
ought to be pretty useful — for us.'
' What d'you mean ? ' said Ollyett.
4 For our side. They are all Rads who are
mixed up in this — from the Chief Constable down.
There must be a Question. There must be a
Question.'
'Yes, but I wanted the charge withdrawn in
my own way,' Woodhouse insisted.
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 207
' That's nothing to do with the case. It's the
legality of your silly methods. You wouldn't
understand if I talked till morning.' He began
to pace the room, his hands behind him. * I
wonder if I can get it through our Whip's thick
head that it's a chance. . . . That comes of stuffing
the Bench with radical tinkers,' he muttered.
* Oh, sit down ! ' said Woodhouse.
' Where's your lawyer to be found now ? ' he
jerked out.
' At the Trefoil,' said Bat promptly. ' I gave
him the stage-box for to-night. He's an artist
too.'
' Then I'm going to see him,' said Pallant.
' Properly handled this ought to be a godsend for
our side.' He withdrew without apology.
1 Certainly, this thing keeps on opening up,
and up,' I remarked inanely.
* It's beyond me ! ' said Bat. < I don't think if
I'd known I'd have ever . . . Yes, I would,
though. He said my home address was '
' It was his tone — his tone ! ' Ollyett almost
shouted. Woodhouse said nothing, but his face
whitened as he brooded.
* Well, any way,' Bat went on, ' I'm glad I
always believed in God and Providence and all
those things. Else I should lose my nerve.
We've put it over the whole world — the full
extent of the geographical globe. We couldn't
stop it if we wanted to now. It's got to burn
itself out. I'm not in charge any more. What
d'you expect 'Jl happen next. Angels ? '
I expected nothing. Nothing that I expected
208 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
approached what I got. Politics are not my
concern, but, for the moment, since it seemed
that they were going to ' huckle ' with the rest, I
took an interest in them. They impressed me as
a dog's life without a dog's decencies, and I was
confirmed in this when an unshaven and unwashen
Pallant called on me at ten o'clock one morning,
begging for a bath and a couch.
' Bail too ? ' I asked. He was in evening
dress and his eyes were sunk feet in his head.
' No,' he said hoarsely. ' All night sitting.
Fifteen divisions. 'Nother to-night. Your place
was nearer than mine, so ' He began to undress
in the hall.
When he awoke at one o'clock he gave me
lurid accounts of what he said was history, but
which was obviously collective hysteria. There
had been a political crisis. He and his fellow
M.P.'s had ' done things ' — I never quite got at
the things — for eighteen hours on end, and the
pitiless Whips were even then at the telephones
to herd 'em up to another dog-fight. So he
snorted and grew hot all over again while he
might have been resting.
' I'm going to pitch in my question about that
miscarriage of justice at Huckley this afternoon,
if you care to listen to it,' he said. 'It'll be
absolutely thrown away — in our present state.
I told 'em so ; but it's my only chance for weeks.
P'raps Woodhouse would like to come.'
'I'm sure he would. Anything to do with
Huckley interests us,' I said.
' It'll miss fire, I'm afraid. Both sides are
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 209
absolutely cooked. The present situation has
been working up for some time. You see the
row was bound to come, etc. etc.,' and he flew off"
the handle once more.
I telephoned to Woodhouse, and we went to
the House together. It was a dull, sticky after-
noon with thunder in the air. For some reason
or other, each side was determined to prove its
virtue and endurance to the utmost. I heard
men snarling about it all round me. ' If they
won't spare us, we'll show 'em no mercy.' ' Break
the brutes up from the start. They can't stand
late hours.' ' Come on ! No shirking ! I know
youvo, had a Turkish bath,' were some of the
sentences I caught on our way. The House was
packed already, and one could feel the negative
electricity of a jaded crowd wrenching at one's
own nerves, and depressing the afternoon soul.
* This is bad ! ' Woodhouse whispered. 'There'll
be a row before they've finished. Look at the
Front Benches ! ' And he pointed out little
personal signs by which I was to know that each
man was on edge. He might have spared himself.
The House was ready to snap before a bone had
been thrown. A sullen minister rose to reply to
a staccato question. His supporters cheered
defiantly. c None o' that ! None o' that ! ' came
from the Back Benches. I saw the Speaker's face
stiffen like the face of a helmsman as he humours
a hard-mouthed yacht after a sudden following
sea. The trouble was barely met in time. There
came a fresh, apparently causeless gust a few
minutes later — savage, threatening, but futile.
p
210 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
It died out — one could hear the sigh — in
sudden wrathful realisation of the dreary hours
ahead, and the ship of state drifted on.
Then Pallant — and the raw House winced at
the torture of his voice — rose. It was a twenty-
line question, studded with legal technicalities.
The gist of it was that he wished to know whether
the appropriate Minister was aware that there had
been a grave miscarriage of justice on such and
such a date, at such and such a place, before such
and such justices of the peace, in regard to a case
which arose
I heard one desperate, weary ' damn i ' float up
from the pit of that torment. Pallant sawed on
— ' out of certain events which occurred at the
village of Huckley.'
The House came to attention with a parting of
the lips like a hiccough, and it flashed through my
mind. . . . Pallant repeated, ' Huckley. The
village '
c That voted the Earth was flat.' A single
voice from a back Bench sang it once like a
lone frog in a far pool.
* Earth was flat,' croaked another voice
opposite.
' Earth was flat.' There were several. Then
several more.
It was, you understand, the collective, over-
strained nerve of the House, snapping, strand by
strand to various notes, as the hawser parts from
its moorings.
' The Village that voted the Earth was flat.'
The tune was beginning to shape itself. More
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 211
voices were raised and feet began to beat time.
Even so it did not occur to me that the thing
would
* The Village that voted the Earth was flat ! '
It was easier now to see who were not singing.
There were still a few. Of a sudden (and this
proves the fundamental instability of the cross-
bench mind) a cross-bencher leaped on his seat and
there played an imaginary double-bass with tremen-
dous maestro-like wagglings of the elbow.
The last strand parted. The ship of state
drifted out helpless on the rocking tide of melody.
' The Village that voted the Earth was flat !
The Village that voted the Earth was flat ! '
The Irish first conceived the idea of using their
order-papers as funnels wherewith to reach the
correct ' vroom — vroom ' on ' Earth.1 Labour,
always conservative and respectable at a crisis,
stood out longer than any other section, but when
it came in it was howling syndicalism. Then, with-
out distinction of Party, fear of constituents,
desire for office, or hope of emolument, the House
sang at the tops and at the bottoms of their voices,
swaying their stale bodies and epileptically beating
with their swelled feet. They sang ' The Village
that voted the Earth was flat ' : first, because they
wanted to, and secondly — which is the terror of
that song — because they could not stop. For no
consideration could they stop.
Pallant was still standing up. Some one pointed
at him and they laughed. Others began to point,
lunging, as it were, in time with the tune. At
212 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
this moment two persons came in practically
abreast from behind the Speaker's chair, and halted
appalled. One happened to be the Prime Minister
and the other a messenger. The House, with tears
running down their cheeks, transferred their at-
tention to the paralysed couple. They pointed
six hundred forefingers at them. They rocked,
they waved, and they rolled while they pointed,
but still they sang*, When they weakened for an
instant, Ireland would yell : 4 Are ye with me,
bhoys ? ' and they all renewed their strength like
Antaeus. No man could say afterwards what
happened in the Press or the Strangers' Gallery.
It was the House, the hysterical and abandoned
House of Commons that held all eyes, as it
deafened all ears. I saw both Front Benches bend
forward, some with their foreheads on their
despatch-boxes, the rest with their faces in their
hands ; and their moving shoulders jolted the
House out of its last rag of decency. Only the
Speaker remained unmoved. The entire press of
Great Britain bore witness next day that he had
not even bowed his head. The Angel of the
Constitution, for vain was the help of man, fore-
told him the exact moment at which the House
would have broken into ' The Gubby.' He is re-
ported to have said : ' I heard the Irish beginning
to shuffle it. So I adjourned.' Pallant's version
is that he added : ' And I was never so grateful
to a private member in all my life as I was to Mr.
Pallant.'
He made no explanation. He did not refer to
orders or disorders. He simply adjourned the
THE VILLAGE THAT VOTED 213
House till six that evening. And the House ad-
journed— some of it nearly on all fours.
I was not correct when I said that the Speaker
was the only man who did not laugh. Wood-
house was beside me all the time. His face was
set and quite white — as white, they told me, as
Sir Thomas Ingell's when he went, by request, to
a private interview with his Chief Whip.
THE PRESS
'The Soldier may forget his sword,
The Sailorman the sea,
The Mason may forget the Word
And the Priest his litany :
The maid may forget both jewel and gem,
And the bride her wedding-dress —
But the Jew shall forget Jerusalem
Ere we forget the Press !
Who once hath stood through the loaded hour
Ere, roaring like the gale,
The Harrild and the Hoe devour
Their league-long paper bale,
And has lit his pipe in the morning calm
That follows the midnight stress —
He hath sold his heart to the old Black Art
We call the daily Press.
Who once hath dealt in the widest game
That all of a man can play,
No later love, no larger fame
Will lure him long away.
214
THE PRESS 215
As the war-horse smelleth the battle afar,
The entered Soul, no less,
He saith : ' Ha ! Ha ! ' where the trumpets are
And the thunders of the Press.
Canst thou number the days that we fulfil,
Or the Times that we bring forth ?
Canst thou send the lightnings to do thy will,
And cause them reign on earth ?
Hast thou given a peacock goodly wings
To please his foolishness ?
Sit down at the heart of men and things,
Companion of the Press !
The Pope may launch his Interdict,
The Union its decree,
But the bubble is blown and the bubble is pricked
By Us and such as We.
Remember the battle and stand aside
While Thrones and Powers confess
That King over all the children of pride
Is the Press — the Press — the Press !
In the Presence
(1912)
1 So the matter, the Regimental Chaplain con-
cluded, ' was correct ; in every way correct. I am
well pleased with Rutton Singh and Attar Singh.
They have gathered the fruit of their lives.'
He folded his arms and sat down on the
verandah. The hot day had ended, and there
was a pleasant smell of cooking along the regi-
mental lines, where half-clad men went back and
forth with leaf platters and water-goglets. The
Subadar-Major, in extreme undress, sat on a chair,
as befitted his rank ; the Havildar - Major, his
nephew, leaning respectfully against the wall.
The Regiment was at home and at ease in its
own quarters in its own district which takes its
name from the great Muhammadan saint Mian
Mir, revered by Jehangir and beloved by Guru
Har Gobind, sixth of the great Sikh Gurus.
' Quite correct,' the Regimental Chaplain
repeated.
No Sikh contradicts his Regimental Chaplain
who expounds to him the Holy Book of the
217
218 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Grunth Sahib and who knows the lives and legends
of all the Gurus.
The Subadar-Major bowed his grey head. The
Havildar- Major coughed respectfully to attract
attention and to ask leave to speak. Though he
was the Subadar-Major's nephew, and though his
father held twice as much land as his uncle, he
knew his place in the scheme of things. The
Subadar-Major shifted one hand with an iron
bracelet on the wrist.
* Was there by any chance any woman at the
back of it ?' the Havildar-Major murmured. 'I
was not here when the thing happened.'
* Yes ! Yes ! Yes ! We all know that thou
wast in England eating and drinking with the
Sahibs. We are all surprised that thou canst
still speak Punjabi.' The Subadar-Major's care-
fully-tended beard bristled.
' There was no woman,' the Regimental Chap-
lain growled. ' It was land. Hear, you ! Rutton
Singh and Attar Singh were the elder of four
brothers. These four held land in — what was
the village's name ? — oh, Pishapur, near Thori,
in the Banalu Tehsil of Patiala State, where men
can still recognise right behaviour when they see
it. The two younger brothers tilled the land,
while Rutton Singh and Attar Singh took service
with the Regiment, according to the custom of
the family.'
* True, true,' said the Havildar-Major. ' There
is the same arrangement in all good families.'
' Then, listen again,' the Regimental Chaplain
went on. ' Their kin on their mother's side put
IN THE PRESENCE 219
great oppression and injustice upon the two
younger brothers who stayed with the land in
Patiala State. Their mother's kin loosened beasts
into the four brothers' crops when the crops were
green ; they cut the corn by force when it was
ripe ; they broke down the water-courses ; they
denied the wells ; and they brought false charges
in the law-courts against all four brothers. They
did not spare even the cotton -seed, as the
saying is.
'Their mother's kin trusted that the young
men would thus be forced by weight of trouble,
and further trouble and perpetual trouble, to quit
their lands in Pishapur village in Banalu Tehsil in
Patiala State. If the young men ran away, the"
land would come whole to their mother's kin.
I am not a regimental schoolmaster, but is it
understood, child ? '
1 Understood,' said the Havildar-Major grimly.
' Pishapur is not the only place where the fence
eats the field instead of protecting it. But perhaps
there was a woman among their mother's kin ? '
* God knows ! ' said the Regimental Chaplain.
1 Woman, or man, or law-courts, the young men
would not be driven off the land which was their
own by inheritance. They made appeal to Rutton
Singh and Attar Singh, their brethren who had
taken service with us in the Regiment, and so
knew the world, to help them in their long war
against their mother's kin in Pishapur. For that
reason, because their own land and the honour of
their house was dear to them, Rutton Singh and
Attar Singh needs must very often ask for leave
220 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
to go to Patiala and attend to the lawsuits and
cattle-poundings there.
' It was not, look you, as though they went
back to their own village and sat, garlanded with
jasmine, in honour, upon chairs before the elders
under the trees. They went back always to
perpetual trouble, either of lawsuits, or theft, or
strayed cattle ; and they sat on thorns.'
' I knew it,' said the Subadar-Major. ' Life
was bitter for them both. But they were well-
conducted men. It was not hard to get them
their leave from the Colonel Sahib.'
1 They spoke to me also,' said the Chaplain.
" Let him who desires the four great gifts apply
himself to the words of holy men." That is written.
Often they showed me the papers of the false
lawsuits brought against them. Often they wept
on account of the persecution put upon them by
their mother's kin. Men thought it was drugs
when their eyes showed red.'
' They wept in my presence too,' said the
Subadar-Major. ' Well-conducted men of nine
years' service apiece. Rutton Singh was drill—
Naik, too.'
'They did all things correctly as Sikhs should,'
said the Regimental Chaplain. ' When the per-
secution had endured seven years, Attar Singh
took leave to Pishapur once again (that was the
fourth time in that year only) and he called his
persecutors together before the village elders, and
he cast his turban at their feet and besought them
by his mother's blood to cease from their persecu-
tions. For he told them earnestly that he had
IN THE PRESENCE 221
marched to the boundaries of his patience, and
that there could be but one end to the matter.
' They gave him abuse. They mocked him
and his tears, which was the same as though they
had mocked the Regiment. Then Attar Singh
returned to the Regiment, and laid this last trouble
before Rutton Singh, the eldest brother. But
Rutton Singh could not get leave all at once.'
* Because he was drill-Naik and the recruits
were to be drilled. I myself told him so,' said the
Subadar-Major. ' He was a well-conducted man.
He said he could wait.'
' But when permission was granted, those two
took four days' leave,' the Chaplain went on.
1 1 do not think Attar Singh should have taken
Baynes Sahib's revolver. He was Baynes Sahib's
orderly, and all that Sahib's things were open to
him. It was, therefore, as I count it, shame to
Attar Singh,' said the Subadar-Major.
' All the words had been said. There was need
of arms, and how could soldiers use Government
rifles upon mere cultivators in the fields?' the
Regimental Chaplain replied. ' Moreover, the
revolver was sent back, together with a money-
order for the cartridges expended. " Borrow not ;
but if thou borrow est, pay back soon I" That is
written in the Hymns. Rutton Singh took a sword,
and he and Attar Singh went to Pishapur and,
after word given, the four brethren fell upon their
persecutors in Pishapur village and slew seventeen,
wounding ten. A revolver is better than a lawsuit.
I say that these four brethren, the two with us,
and the two mere cultivators, slew and wounded
222 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
twenty-seven — all their mother's kin, male and
female.
'Then the four mounted to their housetop,
and Attar Singh, who was always one of the
impetuous, said " My work is done," and he made
shinan (purification) in all men's sight, and he lent
Rutton Singh Baynes Sahib's revolver, and Rutton
Singh shot him in the head.
' So Attar Singh abandoned his body, as an
insect abandons a blade of grass. But Rutton
Singh, having more work to do, went down from
the housetop and sought an enemy whom he had
forgotten — a Patiala man of this regiment who had
sided with the persecutors. When he overtook
the man, Rutton Singh hit him twice with bullets
and once with the sword.'
' But the man escaped and is now in the
hospital here,' said the Subadar- Major. 'The
doctor says he will live in spite of all.'
'Not Rutton Singh's fault. Rutton Singh left
him for dead. Then Rutton Singh returned to
the housetop, and the three brothers together,
Attar Singh being dead, sent word by a lad to the
police station for an army to be dispatched against
them that they might die with honours. But
none came. And yet Patiala State is not under
English law and they should know virtue there
when they see it !
' So, on the third day, Rutton Singh also made
shinan, and the youngest of the brethren shot him
also in the head, and he abandoned his body.
' Thus was all correct. There was neither
heat, nor haste, nor abuse in the matter from end
IN THE PRESENCE 223
to end. There remained alive not one man or
woman of their mother's kin which had oppressed
them. Of the other villagers of Pishapur, who
had taken no part in the persecutions, not one was
slain. Indeed, the villagers sent them food on the
housetop for those three days while they waited
for the police who would not dispatch that army.
1 Listen again ! I know that Attar Singh and
Rutton Singh omitted no ceremony of the purifica-
tions, and when all was done Baynes Sahib's
revolver was thrown down from the housetop,
together with three rupees twelve annas ; and
order was given for its return by post.'
' And what befell the two younger brethren
who were not in the service? ' the Havildar-Major
asked.
' Doubtless they too are dead, but since they were
not in the Regiment their honour concerns them-
selves only. So far as we were touched, see how
correctly we came out of the matter ! I think
the King should be told ; for where could you
match such a tale except among us Sikhs ? Sri
wah guru ji ki Khalsa ! Sri wah guru ji ki futteh ! '
said the Regimental Chaplain.
' Would three rupees twelve annas pay for the
used cartridges ? ' said the Havildar-Major.
* Attar Singh knew the just price. All Baynes
Sahib's gear was in his charge. They expended
one tin box of fifty cartouches, lacking two which
were returned. As I said — as I say — the arrange-
ment was made not with heat nor blasphemies as
a Mussulman would have made it ; not with cries
nor caperings as an idolater would have made it ;
224 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
but conformably to the ritual and doctrine of the
Sikhs. Hear you ! " Though hundreds of amuse-
ments are offered to a child it cannot live without
milk. If a man be divorced from his soul and his
soul's desire he certainly will not stop to play upon the
road, but he will make haste with his pilgrimage.'''
That is written. I rejoice in my disciples.'
* True ! True ! Correct ! Correct ! ' said the
Subadar-Major. There was a long, easy silence.
One heard a water-wheel creaking somewhere and
the nearer sound of meal being ground in a quern.
* But he — ' the Chaplain pointed a scornful
chin at the Havildar-Major — ' he has been so long
in England that '
* Let the lad alone/ said his uncle. ' He was
but two months there, and he was chosen for good
cause.'
Theoretically, all Sikhs are equal. Practically,
there are differences, as none know better than
well-born, land-owning folk, or long-descended
chaplains from Amritsar.
' Hast thou heard anything in England to
match my tale ? ' the Chaplain sneered.
' I saw more than I could understand, so I have
locked up my stories in my own mouth,' the
Havildar-Major replied meekly.
' Stories ? What stories ? I know all the
stories about England,' said the Chaplain. ' I
know that terains run underneath their bazaars
there, and as for their streets stinking with mota-
kahars, only this morning I was nearly killed by
Duggan Sahib's mota-kahar. That young man is
a devil/
IN THE PRESENCE
225
' I expect Grunthi-jee,' said the Subadar-Major,
* you and I grow too old to care for the Kahar-ki-
nautch — the Bearer's dance.' He named one
of the sauciest of the old-time nautches, and
smiled at his own pun. Then he turned to his
nephew. * When I was a lad and came back
to my village on leave, I waited the convenient
hour, and, the elders giving permission, I spoke
of what I had seen elsewhere.'
'Ay, my father,' said the Havildar-Major,
softly and affectionately. He sat himself down
with respect, as behoved a mere lad of thirty
with a bare half-dozen campaigns to his credit.
' There were four men in this affair also,' he
began, 'and it was an affair that touched the
honour, not of one regiment, nor two, but of
all the Army in Hind. Some part of it I saw ;
some I heard ; but all the tale is true. My
father's brother knows, and my priest knows,
that I was in England on business with my
Colonel, when the King — the Great Queen's son
— completed his life.
' First, there was a rumour that sickness was
upon him. Next, we knew that he lay sick in
the Palace. A very great multitude stood out-
side the Palace by night and by day, in the rain as
well as the sun, waiting for news.
' Then came out one with a written paper,
and set it upon a gate-side — the word of the
King's death — and they read, and groaned. This
I saw with my own eyes, because the office
where my Colonel Sahib went daily to talk with
Colonel Forsyth Sahib was at the east end of
Q
226 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
the very gardens where the Palace stood. They
are larger gardens than Shalimar here ' — he
pointed with his chin up the lines — ' or Shahdera
across the river.
' Next day there was a darkness in the streets,
because all the city's multitude were clad in black
garments, and they spoke as a man speaks in
the presence of his dead — all those multitudes.
In the eyes, in the air, and in the heart, there
was blackness. I saw it. But that is not
my tale.
' After ceremonies had been accomplished, and
word had gone out to the Kings of the Earth
that they should come and mourn, the new King
— the dead King's son — gave commandment that
his father's body should be laid, coffined, in a
certain Temple which is. near the river. There
are no idols in that Temple ; neither any carvings,
nor paintings, nor gildings. It is all grey stone,
of one colour as though it were cut out of
the live rock. It is larger than — yes, than the
Durbar Sahib at Amritsar, even though the Akal
Bunga and the Baba-Atal were added. How old
it may be God knows. It is the Sahibs' most
sacred Temple.
* In that place, by the new King's command-
ment, they made, as it were, a shrine for a saint,
with lighted candles at the head and the feet
of the Dead, and duly appointed watchers for
every hour of the day and the night, until the
dead King should be taken to the place of his
fathers, which is at Wanidza.
1 When all was in order, the new King said,
IN THE PRESENCE 227
"Give entrance to all people," and the doors
were opened, and O my uncle ! O my teacher !
all the world entered, walking through that
Temple to take farewell of the Dead. There
was neither distinction, nor price, nor ranking in
the host, except an order that they should walk
by fours.
* As they gathered in the streets without —
very, very far off — so they entered the Temple,
walking by fours : the child, the old man ; mother,
virgin, harlot, trader, priest ; of all colours and
faiths and customs under the firmament of God,
from dawn till late at night. I saw it. My
Colonel gave me leave to go. I stood in the
line, many hours, one koss, two koss, distant from
the temple.'
■ Then why did the multitude not sit down
under the trees ? ' asked the priest.
' Because we were still between houses. The
city is many koss wide,' the Havildar - Major
resumed. ' I submitted myself to that slow-
moving river and thus — thus — a pace at a time
— I made pilgrimage. There were in my rank a
woman, a cripple, and a lascar from the ships.
' When we entered the Temple, the coffin itself
was as a shoal in the Ravi River, splitting the
stream into two branches, one on either side of
the Dead ; and the watchers of the Dead, who
were soldiers, stood about It, moving no more
than the still flame of the candles. Their heads
were bowed ; their hands were clasped ; their
eyes were cast upon the ground — thus. They
were not men, but images, and the multitude
228 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
went past them in fours by day, and, except for
a little while, by night also.
' No, there was no order that the people should
come to pay respect. It was a free-will pilgrim-
age. Eight kings had been commanded to come
— who obeyed — but upon his own Sahibs the
new King laid no commandment. Of themselves
they came.
* I made pilgrimage twice : once for my Salt's
sake, and once again for wonder and terror and
worship. But my mouth cannot declare one
thing of a hundred thousand things in this matter.
There were lakhs of lakhs, crores of crores of
people. I saw them.'
' More than at our great pilgrimages ? ' the
Regimental Chaplain demanded.
c Yes. Those are only cities and districts
coming out to pray. This was the world walking
in grief. And now, hear you ! It is the King's
custom that four swords of Our Armies in Hind
should stand always before the Presence in case
of need.'
: The King's custom, our right,' said the
Subadar-Major curtly.
' Also our right. These honoured ones are
changed after certain months or years, that the
honour may be fairly spread. Now it chanced
that v/hen the old King — the Queen's son —
completed his days, the four that stood in the
Presence were Goorkhas. Neither Sikhs alas, nor
Pathans, Rajputs, nor Jats. Goorkhas, my
father.'
* Idolaters,' said the Chaplain.
IN THE PRESENCE 229
' But soldiers ; for I remember in the Tirah
-' the Havildar-Major began.
' But soldiers, for I remember fifteen campaigns.
Go on,' said the Subadar-Major.
' And it was their honour and right to furnish
one who should stand in the Presence by day and
by night till It went out to burial. There were
no more than four all told — four old men to
furnish that guard.'
' Old ? Old ? What talk is this of old men ? '
said the Subadar-Major.
'Nay. Myfault! Yourpardon!' TheHavildar-
Major spread a deprecating hand. ' They were
strong, hot, valiant men, and the youngest was a
lad of forty-five.'
1 That is better,' the Subadar-Major laughed.
* But for all their strength and heat they could
not eat strange food from the Sahibs' hands.
There was no cooking place in the Temple ; but a
certain Colonel Forsyth Sahib, who had under-
standing, made arrangement whereby they should
receive at least a little caste-clean parched grain ;
also cold rice maybe, and water which was pure.
Yet, at best, this was no more than a hen's mouth-
ful, snatched as each came off his guard. They
lived on grain and were thankful, as the saying is.
' One hour's guard in every four was each man's
burden, for, as I have shown, they were but four
all told ; and the honour of Our Armies in Hind
was on their heads. The Sahibs could draw upon
all the armies in England for the other watchers —
thousands upon thousands of fresh men — if they
needed ; but these four were but four.
230 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
1 The Sahibs drew upon the Granadeers for the
other watchers. Granadeers be very tall men under
very tall bearskins, such as Fusilier regiments
wear in cold weather. Thus, when a Granadeer
bowed his head but a very little over his stock,
the bearskin sloped and showed as though he
grieved exceedingly. Now the Goorkhas wear
flat, green caps '
' I see, 1 see,' said the Subadar-Major im-
patiently.
* They are bull-necked, too ; and their stocks
are hard, and when they bend deeply — deeply — to
match the Granadeers — they come nigh to choking
themselves. That was a handicap against them,
when it came to the observance of ritual.
( Yet even with their tall, grief-declaring bear-
skins, the Granadeers could not endure the full
hour's guard in the Presence. There was good
cause, as I will show, why no man could endure
that terrible hour. So for them the hour's guard
was cut to one-half. What did it matter to the
Sahibs ? They could draw on ten thousand
Granadeers. Forsyth Sahib, who had comprehen-
sion, put this choice also before the four, and they
said, " No, ours is the Honour of the Armies of
Hind. Whatever the Sahibs do, we will suffer the
full hour."
' Forsyth Sahib, seeing that they were — know-
ing that they could neither sleep long nor eat
much, said, " Is it great suffering ? " They
said, " It is great honour. We will endure."
* Forsyth Sahib, who loves us, said then to the
eldest, " Ho, father, tell me truly what manner of
IN THE PRESENCE 231
burden it is ; for the full hour's watch breaks up
our men like water."
* The eldest answered, " Sahib, the burden is
the feet of the multitude that pass us on either
side. Our eyes being lowered and fixed, we see
those feet only from the knee down — a river of
feet, Sahib, that never — never — never stops. It is
not the standing without any motion ; it is not
hunger ; nor is it the dead part before the dawn
when maybe a single one comes here to weep.
It is the burden of the unendurable procession
of feet from the knee down, that never — never —
never stops ! "
' Forsyth Sahib said, " By God, I had not
considered that ! Now I know why our men
come trembling and twitching off that guard.
But at least, my father, ease the stock a little
beneath the bent chin for that one hour."
'The eldest said, "We are in the Presence.
Moreover He knew every button and braid and
hook of every uniform in all His armies."
* Then Forsyth Sahib said no more, except to
speak about their parched grain, but indeed they
could not eat much after their hour, nor could
they sleep much because of eye-twitchings and the
renewed procession of the feet before the eyes.
Yet they endured each his full hour — not half an
hour — his one full hour in each four hours.'
1 Correct ! correct ! ' said the Subadar-Major
and the Chaplain together. ' We come well out
of this affair.'
1 But seeing that they were old men,' said the
Subadar-Major reflectively, c very old men, worn
23 2 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
out by lack of food and sleep, could not arrange-
ments have been made, or influence have been
secured, or a petition presented, whereby a well-
born Sikh might have eased them of some portion
of their great burden, even though his substantive
rank '
* Then they would most certainly have slain
me,' said the Havildar-Major with a smile.
' And they would have done correctly,' said the
Chaplain. ' What befell the honourable ones later? '
* This. The Kings of the earth and all the
Armies sent flowers and such-like to the dead
King's palace at Wanidza, where the funeral
offerings were accepted. There was no order
given, but all the world made oblation. So the
four took counsel — three at a time — and either
they asked Forsyth Sahib to choose flowers, or
themselves they went forth and bought flowers —
I do not know ; but, however it was arranged, the
flowers were bought and made in the shape of a
great drum-like circle weighing half a maund.
1 Forsyth Sahib had said, " Let the flowers be
sent to Wanidza with the other flowers which all
the world is sending." But they said among them-
selves, " It is not fit that these flowers, which are
the offerings of His Armies in Hind, should come
to the Palace of the Presence by the hands of
hirelings or messengers, or of any man not in His
service."
1 Hearing this, Forsyth Sahib, though he was
much occupied with office-work, said, " Give me
the flowers, and I will steal a time and myself
take them to Wanidza."
IN THE PRESENCE 233
' The eldest said, " Since when has Forsyth
Sahib worn sword ? "
1 Forsyth Sahib said, " But always. And I
wear it in the Presence when I put on uniform.
I am a Colonel in the Armies of Hind." The
eldest said, " Of what regiment ? " And Forsyth
Sahib looked on the carpet and pulled the hair of
his lip. He saw the trap.'
' Forsyth Sahib's regiment was once the old
Forty-sixth Pathans which was called ' the
Subadar- Major gave the almost forgotten title,
adding that he had met them in such and such
campaigns, when Forsyth Sahib was a young
captain.
The Havildar-Major took up the tale, saying,
' The eldest knew that also, my father. He
laughed, and presently Forsyth Sahib laughed.
' " It is true," said Forsyth Sahib. " I have
no regiment. For twenty years I have been a
clerk tied to a thick pen. Therefore I am the
more fit to be your orderly and messenger in this
business."
' The eldest then said, " If it were a matter of
my life or the honour of any of my household, it
would be easy." And Forsyth Sahib joined his
hands together, half laughing, though he was
ready to weep, and he said, " Enough ! I ask
pardon. Which one of you goes with the
offering ? "
' The eldest said, feigning not to have heard,
" Nor must they be delivered by a single sword —
as though we were pressed for men in His service,"
and they saluted and went out.'
234 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Were these things seen, or were they told
thee? ' said the Subadar-Major.
' I both saw and heard in the office full of
books and papers where my Colonel Sahib con-
sulted Forsyth Sahib upon the business that had
brought my Colonel Sahib to England.'
* And what was that business ? ' the Regimental
Chaplain asked of a sudden, looking full at the
Havildar-Major, who returned the look without
a quiver.
' That was not revealed to me,' said the
Havildar-Major.
1 I heard it might have been some matter
touching the integrity of certain regiments,' the
Chaplain insisted.
' The matter was not in any way open to my
ears,' said the Havildar-Major.
' Humph ! ' The Chaplain drew his hard road-
worn feet under his robe. ' Let us hear the tale
that it is permitted thee to tell,' he said, and
the Havildar-Major went on :
' So then the three, having returned to the
Temple, called the fourth, who had only forty-
five years, when he came off guard, and said, " We
go to the Palace at Wanidza with the offerings.
Remain thou in the Presence, and take all our
guards, one after the other, till we return."
' Within that next hour they hired a large and
strong mota-kahar for the journey from the Temple
to Wanidza, which is twenty koss or more, and
they promised expedition. But he who took their
guards said, " It is not seemly that we should
for any cause appear to be in haste. There are
IN THE PRESENCE 235
eighteen medals with eleven clasps and three Orders
to consider. Go at leisure. I can endure."
' So the three with the offerings were absent
three hours and a half, and having delivered the
offering at Wanidza in the correct manner they
returned and found the lad on guard, and they did
not break his guard till his full hour was ended.
So he endured four hours in the Presence, not
stirring one hair, his eyes abased, and the river
of feet, from the knee down, passing continually
before his eyes. When he was relieved, it was
seen that his eyeballs worked like weavers' shuttles.
* And so it was done — not in hot blood, not
for a little while, nor yet with the smell of slaughter
and the noise of shouting to sustain, but in silence,
for a very long time, rooted to one place before
the Presence among the most terrible feet of the
multitude.'
* Correct ! ' the Chaplain chuckled.
' But the Goorkhas had the honour,' said the
Subadar-Major sadly.
' Theirs was the Honour of His Armies in Hind,
and that was Our Honour,' the nephew replied.
* Yet I would one Sikh had been concerned in
it — even one low-caste Sikh. And after ? '
' They endured the burden until the end — until
It went out of the Temple to be laid among the
older kings at Wanidza. When all was accom-
plished and It was withdrawn under the earth,
Forsyth Sahib said to the four, " The King gives
command that you be fed here on meat cooked by
your own cooks. Eat and take ease, my fathers."
* So they loosed their belts and ate. They had
236 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
not eaten food except by snatches for some long
time ; and when the meat had given them strength
they slept for very many hours ; and it was told me
that the procession of the unendurable feet ceased
to pass before their eyes any more.'
He threw out one hand palm upward to show
that the tale was ended.
' We came well and cleanly out of it,' said the
Subadar-Major.
* Correct ! Correct ! Correct ! ' said the Regi-
mental Chaplain. ' In an evil age it is good to
hear such things, and there is certainly no doubt
that this is a very evil age.'
JOBSON'S AMEN
' Blessed be the English and all their ways and
works
Cursed be the Infidels, Hereticks, and Turks ! '
' Amen,' quo' Jobson, ' but where I used to lie
Was neither Candle, Bell nor Book to curse my
brethren by :
' But a palm-tree in full bearing, bowing down,
bowing down,
To a surf that drove unsparing at the brown-
walled town —
Conches in a temple, oil-lamps in a dome —
And a low moon out of Africa said : " This way
home ! " '
' Blessed be the English and all that they profess.
Cursed be the Savages that prance in nakedness ! '
4 Amen,' quo' Jobson, * but where I used to lie
Was neither shirt nor pantaloons to catch my
brethren by :
' But a well-wheel slowly creaking, going round,
going round,
By a water-channel leaking over drowned, warm
ground —
Parrots very busy in the trellised pepper-vine —
And a high sun over Asia shouting : " Rise and
shine ! " '
237
23 8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Blessed be the English and everything they own.
Cursed be the Infidels that bow to v/ood and
stone ! '
' Amen,' quo' Jobson, ' but where I used to lie
Was neither pew nor Gospelleer to save my
brethren by :
' But a desert stretched and stricken, left and
right, left and right,
Where the piled mirages thicken under white-hot
light—
A skull beneath a sand-hill and a viper coiled
inside —
And a red wind out of Libya roaring : " Run
and hide ! " '
* Blessed be the English and all they make or do.
Cursed be the Hereticks who doubt that this is
true ! '
* Amen,' quo' Jobson, ' but where I mean to die
Is neither rule nor calliper to judge the matter by :
'But Himalaya heavenward -heading, sheer and
vast, sheer and vast,
In a million summits bedding on the last world's
past ;
A certain sacred mountain where the scented
cedars climb,
And — the feet of my Beloved hurrying back
through Time ! '
Regulus
(1908)
Regulus, a Roman general^ defeated the Cartha-
ginians 256 B.C., but was next year defeated and
taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, who sent him
to Rome with an embassy to ask for peace or an
exchange of prisoners. Regulus strongly advised the
Roman Senate to make no terms with the enemy. He
then returned to Carthage and was put to death.
The Fifth Form had been dragged several times
in its collective life, from one end of the school
Horace to the other. Those were the years when
Army examiners gave thousands of marks for
Latin, and it was Mr. King's hated business to
defeat them.
Hear him, then, on a raw November morning
at second lesson.
' Aha ! ' he began, rubbing his hands. ' Cras
ingens iterabimus aequor. Our portion to-day is
the Fifth Ode of the Third Book, I believe —
concerning one Regulus, a gentleman. And how
often have we been through it ? '
239
24o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* Twice, sir,' said Malpass, head of the Form.
Mr. King shuddered. ' Yes, twice, quite liter-
ally,' he said. ' To-day, with an eye to your
Army viva-voce examinations — ugh ! — I shall exact
somewhat freer and more florid renditions. With
feeling and comprehension if that be possible. I
except ' — here his eye swept the back benches —
' our friend and companion Beetle, from whom,
now as always, I demand an absolutely literal
translation.' The form laughed subserviently.
' Spare his blushes ! Beetle charms us first.'
Beetle stood up, confident in the possession of
a guaranteed construe, left behind by M'Turk, who
had that day gone into the sick-house with a cold.
Yet he was too wary a hand to show confidence.
' Credidimus, we — believe — we have believed,' he
opened in hesitating slow, time, * tonantem Jovem,
thundering Jove — regnare, to reign — cae/o, in
heaven. Augustus, Augustus — habebitur, will be
held or considered — praesens divus, a present God
— adjsctis Britannis, the Britons being added —
imperio, to the Empire — gravib usque Per sis, with
the heavy — er, stern Persians.'
'What?' '
' The grave or stern Persians.' Beetle pulled
up with the ' Thank-God-I-have-done-my-duty '
air of Nelson in the cockpit.
' I am quite aware,' said King, ' that the first
stanza is about the extent of your knowledge, but
continue, sweet one, continue. Gravibus, by the
way, is usually translated as " troublesome."
Beetle drew a long and tortured breath. The
second stanza (which carries over to the third) of
REGULUS 241
that Ode is what is technically called a ' stinker.'
But M'Turk had done him handsomely.
< Milesne Crassi, had — has the soldier of
Crassus — vixit, lived — turpis maritus, a disgraceful
husband '
4 You slurred the quantity of the word after
turpis,' said King. * Let's hear it.'
Beetle guessed again, and for a wonder hit the
correct quantity. ' Er — a disgraceful husband —
conjuge barbara, with a barbarous spouse.'
' Why do you select that disgustful equivalent
out of all the dictionary ? ' King snapped. ' Isn't
" wife " good enough for you ? '
1 Yes, sir. But what do I do about this bracket,
sir ? Shall I take it now ? '
' Confine yourself at present to the soldier of
Crassus.'
* Yes, sir. Et, and — consenuit, has he grown old
— in armis, in the — er — arms — hostium socerorum,
of his father-in-law's enemies.'
' Who ? How ? Which ? '
' Arms of his enemies' fathers-in-law, sir.'
'Tha-anks. By the way, what meaning might
you attach to in armis ? '
' Oh, weapons — weapons of war, sir.' There
was a virginal note in Beetle's voice as though he
had been falsely accused of uttering indecencies.
* Shall I take the bracket now, sir ? '
' Since it seems to be troubling you.'
' Pro Curia, O for the Senate House — inversique
mores, and manners upset — upside down.'
'Ve-ry like your translation. Meantime, the
soldier of Crassus ? '
R
242 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Sub rege Medo, under a Median King — Marsus
et Apulus, he being a Marsian and an Apulian.'
1 Who ? The Median King ? '
* No, sir. The soldier of Crassus. Oblittus
agrees with milesne Crassi, sir,' volunteered too
hasty Beetle.
' Does it ? It doesn't with me1
1 Oh-b light-us ^ Beetle corrected hastily, ' forget-
ful— anciliorum, of the shields, or trophies — et
nominis, and the — his name — et togae> and the toga
— eternaeque Vestae, and eternal Vesta — incolumt
Jove, Jove being safe — et urbe Roma, and the
Roman city.' With an air of hardly restrained
zeal — ' Shall I go on, sir ? '
Mr. King winced. ' No, thank you. You
have indeed given us a translation ! May I ask
if it conveys any meaning whatever to your so-
called mind ? '
' Oh, I think so, sir.' This with gentle tolera-
tion for Horace and all his works.
' We envy you. Sit down.'
Beetle sat down relieved, well knowing that a
reef of uncharted genitives stretched ahead of
him, on which in spite of M 'Turk's sailing-
directions he would infallibly have been wrecked.
Rattray, who took up the task, steered neatly
through them and came unscathed to port.
' Here we require drama,' said King. ' Regulus
himself is speaking now. Who shall represent the
provident-minded Regulus ? Winton, will you
kindly oblige ? '
Winton of King's House, a long, heavy, tow-
headed Second Fifteen forward, overdue for his
REGULUS 243
First Fifteen colours, and in aspect like an earnest,
elderly horse, rose up, and announced, among other
things, that he had seen * signs affixed to Punic
deluges.' Half the Form shouted for joy, and the
other half for joy that there was something to
shout about.
Mr. King opened and shut his eyes with great
swiftness. ' Signa adfixa delubris,' he gasped.
' So delubris is " deluges " is it ? Winton, in all
our dealings, have I ever suspected you of a jest ? '
4 No, sir,' said the rigid and angular Winton,
while the Form rocked about him.
* And yet you assert delubris means "deluges."
Whether I am a fit subject for such a jape is, of
course, a matter of opinion, but. . . . Winton,
you are normally conscientious. May we assume
you looked out delubris ? '
' No, sir.' Winton was privileged to speak
that truth dangerous to all who stand before Kings.
* 'Made a shot at it then ? '
Every line of Winton's body showed he had
done nothing of the sort. Indeed, the very idea
that ' Pater' Winton (and a boy is not called ' Pater '
by companions for his frivolity) would make a shot
at anything was beyond belief. But he replied,
1 Yes,' and all the while worked with his right heel
as though he were heeling a ball at punt-about.
Though none dared to boast of being a favourite
with King, the taciturn, three-cornered Winton
stood high in his House-Master's opinion. It
seemed to save him neither rebuke nor punishment,
but the two were in some fashion sympathetic.
' Hm ! ' said King drily. ' I was going to say
244 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
— Flagitio additis damnum, but I think — I think I
see the process. Beetle, the translation of delubris,
please.'
Beetle raised his head from his shaking arm
long enough to answer : ' Ruins, sir.'
There was an impressive pause while King
checked off crimes on his fingers. Then to Beetle
the much-enduring man addressed winged words :
' Guessing,' said he. * Guessing, Beetle, as usual,
from the look of delubris that it bore some relation
to diluvium or deluge, you imparted the result of
your half-baked lucubrations to Winton who seems
to have been lost enough to have accepted it.
Observing next, your companion's fall, from the
presumed security of your undistinguished position
in the rear-guard, you took another pot-shot.
The turbid chaos of your mind threw up some
memory of the word " dilapidations " which you
have pitifully attempted to disguise under the
synonym of " ruins." '
As this was precisely what Beetle had done he
looked hurt but forgiving. * We will attend to
this later,' said King. ' Go on, Winton, and
retrieve yourself.'
Delubris happened to be the one word which
Winton had not looked out and had asked Beetle
for, when they were settling into their places.
He forged ahead with no further trouble. Only
when he rendered scilicet as ' forsooth,' King
erupted.
' Regulus,' he said, ' was not a leader-writer for
the penny press, nor, for that matter, was Horace.
Regulus says : " The soldier ransomed by gold
REGULUS 245
will come keener for the fight — will he by — by
gum ! " That's the meaning of scilicet. It indicates
contempt — bitter contempt. " Forsooth," forsooth!
You'll be talking about " speckled beauties " and
" eventually transpire " next. Howell, what do
you make of that doubled " Vidi ego — ego vidi " ?
It wasn't put in to fill up the metre, you know.'
' Isn't it intensive, sir ? ' said Howell, afflicted
by a genuine interest in what he read. ' Regulus
was a bit in earnest about Rome making no terms
with Carthage — and he wanted to let the Romans
understand it, didn't he, sir ? '
' Less than your usual grace, but the fact.
Regulus was in earnest. He was also engaged at
the same time in cutting his own throat with every
word he uttered. He knew Carthage which (your
examiners won't ask you this so you needn't take
notes) was a sort of God-forsaken nigger Man-
chester. Regulus was not thinking about his own life.
He was telling Rome the truth. He was playing
for his side. Those lines from the eighteenth to the
fortieth ought to be written in blood. Yet there
are things in human garments which will tell you
that Horace was a flaneur — a man about town.
Avoid such beings. Horace knew a very great
deal. He knew ! Erit ille fords — " will he be
brave who once to faithless foes has knelt ? " And
again (stop pawing with your hooves, Thornton ! )
hie unde vitam sumeret inscius. That means
roughly — but 1 perceive I am ahead of my trans-
lators. Begin at hie unde, Vernon, and let us see
if you have the spirit of Regulus.'
Now no one expected fireworks from gentle
246 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Paddy Vernon, sub-prefect of Hartopp's House,
but, as must often be the case with growing boys,
his mind was in abeyance for the time being, and
he said, all in a rush, on behalf of Regulus : ' O
magna Carthago probrosis altior Italiae minis , O
Carthage, thou wilt stand forth higher than the
ruins of Italy.'
Even Beetle, most lenient of critics, was in-
terested at this point, though he did not join the
half-groan of reprobation from the wiser heads of
the Form.
' Please don't mind me,' said King, and Vernon
very kindly did not. He ploughed on thus :
1 He (Regulus) is related to have removed from
himself the kiss of the shameful wife and of his
small children as less by the head, and, being
stern, to have placed his virile visage on the
ground.'
Since King loved ' virile ' about as much as he
did ' spouse ' or ' forsooth ' the Form looked up
hopefully. But Jove thundered not.
'Until,' Vernon continued, 'he should have
confirmed the sliding fathers as being the author
of counsel never given under an alias.'
He stopped, conscious of stillness round him
like the dread calm of the typhoon's centre.
King's opening voice was sweeter than honey.
* I am painfully aware by bitter experience that
I cannot give you any idea of the passion, the
power, the — the essential guts of the lines which
you have so foully outraged in our presence. But
' the note changed, ' so far as in me lies, I will
strive to bring home to you, Vernon, the fact that
REGULUS 247
there exist in Latin a few pitiful rules of grammar,
of syntax, nay, even of declension, which were not
created for your incult sport — your Boeotian diver-
sion. You will, therefore, Vernon, write out and
bring to me to-morrow a word-for-word English-
Latin translation of the Ode, together with a full
list of all adjectives — an adjective is not a verb,
Vernon, as the Lower Third will tell you — all ad-
jectives, their number, case, and gender. Even
now I haven't begun to deal with you faithfully.'
' I — I'm very sorry, sir,' Vernon stammered.
' You mistake the symptoms, Vernon. You
are possibly discomfited by the imposition, but
sorrow postulates some sort of mind, intellect,
nous. Your rendering of probrosis alone stamps
you as lower than the beasts of the field. Will
some one take the taste out of our mouths ? And
— talking of tastes ' He coughed. There was
a distinct flavour of chlorine gas in the air. Up
went an eyebrow, though King knew perfectly
well what it meant.
' Mr. Hartopp's st — science class next door,'
said Malpass.
* Oh yes. I had forgotten. Our newly
established Modern Side, of course. Perowne,
open the windows ; and Winton, go on once more
from interque maerentes?
' And hastened away/ said Winton, ' surrounded
by his mourning friends, into — into illustrious
banishment. But I got that out of Conington,
sir,' he added in one conscientious breath.
' I am aware. The master generally knows his
ass's crib, though I acquit you of any intention that
248 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
way. Can you suggest anything for egregius exul ?
Only ''egregious exile" ? I fear "egregious" is
a good word ruined. No ! You can't in this
case improve on Conington. Now then for atqui
sciebat quae sibi barbarus tortor pararet. The whole
force of it lies in the atqui?
' Although he knew,' Winton suggested.
' Stronger than that, I think.'
' He who knew well,' Malpass interpolated.
' Ye-es. " Well though he knew." I don't
like Conington's "well-witting." It's Wardour
Street.'
* Well though he knew what the savage torturer
was — was getting ready for him,' said Winton.
' Ye-es. Had in store for him.'
' Yet he brushed aside his kinsmen and the
people delaying his return.'
' Ye-es ; but then how do you render obstantes ? '
' If it's a free translation mightn't obstantes and
morantem come to about the same thing, sir ? '
* Nothing comes to " about the same thing "
with Horace, Winton. As I have said, Horace
was not a journalist. No, I take it that his
kinsmen bodily withstood his departure, whereas
the crowd — populumque — the democracy stood
about futilely pitying him and getting in the way.
Now for that noblest of endings — quam si clientum]
and King ran off into the quotation :
'As though some tedious business o'er
Of clients' court, his journey lay
Towards Venafrum's grassy floor
Or Sparta-built Tarentum's bay.
All right, Winton. Beetle, when you've quite
REGULUS 249
finished dodging the fresh air yonder, give
me the meaning of tendens — and turn down your
collar.'
' Me, sir ? Tendens, sir ? Oh ! Stretching
away in the direction of, sir.'
c Idiot ! Regulus was not a feature of the
landscape. He was a man, self-doomed to death
by torture. Atqui sciebat — knowing it — having
achieved it for his country's sake — can't you hear
that atqui cut like a knife ? — he moved off with
some dignity. That is why Horace out of the
whole golden Latin tongue chose the one word
" tendens " — which is utterly untranslatable.'
The gross injustice of being asked to translate
it, converted Beetle into a young Christian martyr,
till King buried his nose in his handkerchief
again.
'I think they've broken another gas -bottle
next door, sir,' said Howell. ' They're always
doing it.' The Form coughed as more chlorine
came in.
* Well, I suppose we must be patient with the
Modern Side,' said King. * But it is almost in-
supportable for this Side. Vernon, what are you
grinning at ? '
Vernon's mind had returned to him glowing
and inspired. He chuckled as he underlined his
Horace.
' It appears to amuse you,' said King. c Let
us participate. What is it ? '
' The last two lines of the Tenth Ode, in this
book, sir,' was Vernon's amazing reply.
' What ? Oh, I see. Non hoc semper erit liminis
250 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
aut aquae caelestis patiens latus' 1 King's mouth
twitched to hide a grin. ' Was that done with
intention ? '
* I — I thought it fitted, sir.'
* It does. It's distinctly happy. What put it
into your thick head, Paddy ? '
' I don't know, sir, except we did the Ode last
term.'
* And you remembered ? The same head that
minted probrosis as a verb ! Vernon, you are an
enigma. No ! This Side will not always be patient
of unheavenly gases and waters. I will make re-
presentations to our so-called Moderns. Mean-
time (who shall say I am not just ?) I remit you
your accrued pains and penalties in regard to
probrosim, probrosis, probrosit and other enormities.
I oughtn't to do it, but this Side is occasionally
human. By no means bad, Paddy.'
1 Thank you, sir,' said Vernon, wondering how
inspiration had visited him.
Then King, with a few brisk remarks about
Science, headed them back to Regulus, of whom
and of Horace and Rome and evil-minded com-
mercial Carthage and of the democracy eternally
futile, he explained, in all ages and climes, he spoke
for ten minutes ; passing thence to the next Ode —
Delicta majorum — where he fetched up, full-voiced,
upon — -* Dis te minorem quod geris imperas ' (Thou
rulest because thou bearest thyself as lower than
the Gods) — making it a text for a discourse on
manners, morals, and respect for authority as dis-
1 « This side will not always be patient of rain and waiting on
the threshold.'
REGULUS 251
tinct from bottled gases, which lasted till the bell
rang. Then Beetle, concertinaing his books,
observed to Winton, 'When King's really on
tap he's an interestin' dog. Hartopp's chlorine
uncorked him.'
' Yes ; but why did you tell me delubris was
"deluges," you silly ass? ' said Winton.
■ Well, that uncorked him too. Look out, you
hoof-handed old owl ! ' Winton had cleared for
action as the Form poured out like puppies at
play and was scragging Beetle. Stalky from behind
collared Winton low. The three fell in confusion.
' Dis te minorem quod geris imperas,' quoth
Stalky, ruffling Winton'slint-whitelocks. ''Mustn't
jape with Number Five study. Don't be too
virtuous. Don't brood over it. 'Twon't count
against you in your future caree-ah. Cheer up,
Pater.'
'Pull him off my — er — essential guts, will vou ?'
said Beetle from beneath. ' He's squashin' 'em.'
They dispersed to their studies.
No one, the owner least of all, can explain what
is in a growing boy's mind. It might have been
the blind ferment of adolescence , Stalky's random
remarks about virtue might have stirred him ; like
his betters he might have sought popularity by
way of clowning ; or, as the Head asserted years
later, the only known jest of his serious life might
have worked on him, as a sober-sided man's one
love colours and dislocates all his after days. But,
at the next lesson, mechanical drawing with Mr.
Lidgett who as drawing-master had very limited
252 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
powers of punishment, Winton fell suddenly from
grace and let loose a live mouse in the form-room.
The whole form, shrieking and leaping high, threw
at it all the plaster cones, pyramids, and fruit in
high relief — not to mention ink-pots — that they
could lay hands on. Mr. Lidgett reported at once
to the Head ; Winton owned up to his crime,
which, venial in the Upper Third, pardonable at a
price in the Lower Fourth, was, of course, rank
ruffianism on the part of a Fifth Form boy ; and
so, by graduated stages, he arrived at the Head's
study just before lunch, penitent, perturbed,
annoyed with himself and — as the Head said to
King in the corridor after the meal — more
human than he had known him in seven years.
1 You see,' the Head drawled on, ' Winton's
only fault is a certain costive and unaccommodating
virtue. So this comes very happily.'
' I've never noticed any sign of it,' said King.
Winton was in King's House, and though King as
pro-consul might, and did, infernally oppress his
own Province, once a black and yellow cap was in
trouble at the hands of the Imperial authority
King fought for him to the very last steps of
Caesar's throne.
'Well, you yourself admitted just now that
a mouse was beneath the occasion,' the Head
answered.
' It was.' Mr. King did not love Mr. Lidgett.
1 It should have been a rat. But — but — I hate to
plead it — it's the lad's first offence.'
1 Could you have damned him more completely,
King?'
REGULUS 253
' Hm. What is the penalty ? ' said King, in
retreat, but keeping up a rear-guard action.
' Only my usual few lines of Virgil to be shown
up by tea-time.'
The Head's eyes turned slightly to that end of
the corridor where Mullins, Captain of the Games
('Pot,' 'old Pot,' or 'Potiphar' Mullins), was
pinning up the usual Wednesday notice — ' Big,
Middle, and Little Side Football — A to K, L to
Z, 3 to 4-45 P-M-
You cannot write out the Head's usual few
(which means five hundred) Latin lines and play
football for one hour and three-quarters between the
hours of 1.30 and 5 p.m. Winton had evidently
no intention of trying to do so, for he hung about
the corridor with a set face and an uneasy foot.
Yet it was law in the school, compared with which
that of the Medes and Persians was no more than
a non-committal resolution, that any boy, outside
the First Fifteen, who missed his football for any
reason whatever, and had not a written excuse,
duly signed by competent authority to explain his
absence, would receive not less than three strokes
with a ground-ash from the Captain of the Games,
generally a youth between seventeen and eighteen
years, rarely under eleven stone (' Pot ' was
nearer thirteen), and always in hard condition.
King knew without inquiry that the Head had
given Winton no such excuse.
' But he is practically a member of the First
Fifteen. He has played for it all this term,' said
King. ' I believe his Cap should have arrived last
week.'
254 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' His Cap has not been given him. Officially,
therefore, he is naught. I rely on old Pot.'
<But Mullins is Winton's study-mate,' King
persisted.
Pot Mullins and Pater Winton were cousins
and rather close friends.
* That will make no difference to Mullins — or
Winton, if I know 'em/ said the Head.
' But — but,' King played his last card des-
perately, c I was going to recommend Winton
for extra sub-prefect in my House, now Carton
has gone.'
' Certainly,' said the Head. ' Why not ? He
will be excellent by tea-time, I hope.'
At that moment they saw Mr. Lidgett, tripping
down the corridor, waylaid by Winton.
* It's about that mouse-business at mechanical
drawing,' Winton opened, swinging across his path.
' Yes, yes, highly disgraceful,' Mr. Lidgett
panted.
' I know it was,' said Winton. ' It — it was a
cad's trick because '
* Because you. knew I couldn't give you more
than fifty lines,' said Mr. Lidgett.
' Well, anyhow I've come to apologise for it.'
' Certainly,' said Mr. Lidgett, and added, for
he was a kindly man, ' I think that shows quite
right feeling. I'll tell the Head at once I'm
satisfied.'
* No — no ! ' The boy's still unmended voice
jumped from the growl to the squeak. ' I didn't
mean that ! I — I did it on principle. Please
don't — er — do anything of that kind.'
REGULUS 255
Mr. Lidgett looked him up and down and,
being an artist, understood.
' Thank you, Winton,' he said. ' This shall
be between ourselves.'
' You heard ? ' said King, indecent pride in his
voice.
' Of course. You thought he was going to
get Lidgett to beg him off the impot.'
King denied this with so much warmth that
the Head laughed and King went away in a huff.
' By the way,' said the Head, ' I've told Winton
to do his lines in your form-room — not in his
study.'
* Thanks,' said King over his shoulder, for
the Head's orders had saved Winton and Mullins,
who was doing extra Army work in the study,
from an embarrassing afternoon together.
An hour later, King wandered into his still
form-room as though by accident. Winton was
hard at work.
* Aha ! ' said King, rubbing his hands. ' This
does not look like games, Winton. Don't let me
arrest your facile pen. Whence this sudden love
for Virgil ? '
1 Impot from the Head, sir, for that mouse-
business this morning.'
' Rumours thereof have reached us. That was
a lapse on your part into Lower Thirdery which
I don't quite understand.'
The * tump-tump ' of the puntabouts before
the sides settled to games came through the open
window. Winton^ like his House-master, loved
fresh air. Then they heard Paddy Vernon, sub-
256 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
prefect on duty, calling the roll in the field and
marking defaulters. Winton wrote steadily.
King curled himself up on a desk, hands round
knees. One would have said that the man was
gloating over the boy's misfortune, but the boy
understood.
' Dis te minorem quod geris imperas] King quoted
presently. ' It is necessary to bear oneself as
lower than the local gods — even than drawing-
masters who are precluded from effective retalia-
tion. I do wish you'd tried that mouse-game with
me, Pater.'
Winton grinned ; then sobered. ' It was a
cad's trick, sir, to play on Mr. Lidgett.' He
peered forward at the page he was copying.
' Well, " the sin / impute to each frustrate
ghost" ' King stopped himself. 'Why do
you goggle like an owl ? Hand me the Mantuan
and I'll dictate. No matter. Any rich Virgilian
measures will serve. I may peradventure recall a
few.' He began :
' Tu regere imperio populos Romane memento
Hae tibi erunt artes pacisque imponere morem,
Parcere subjectis et debellare superbos.
There you have it all, Winton. Write that out
twice and yet once again.'
For the next forty minutes, with never a glance
at the book, King paid out the glorious hexa-
meters (and King could read Latin as though it
were alive), Winton hauling them in and coiling
them away behind him as trimmers in a telegraph-
ship's hold coil away deep-sea cable. King
REGULUS 257
broke from the Aeneid to the Georgics and back
again, pausing now and then to translate some
specially loved line or to dwell on the treble-shot
texture of the ancient fabric. He did not allude
to the coming interview with Mullins except at
the last, when he said, ' I think at this juncture,
Pater, I need not ask you for the precise signifi-
cance of atqui sciebat quae sibi barbarus tortor?
The ungrateful Winton flushed angrily, and
King loafed out to take five o'clock call-over, after
which he invited little Hartopp to tea and a talk
on chlorine-gas. Hartopp accepted the challenge
like a bantam, and the two went up to King's
study about the same time as Winton returned to
the form-room beneath it to finish his lines.
Then half a dozen of the Second Fifteen who
should have been washing strolled in to condole
with ' Pater ' Winton, whose misfortune and its
consequences were common talk. No one was
more sincere than the long, red-headed, knotty-
knuckled ' Paddy ' Vernon, but, being a careless
animal, he joggled Winton's desk.
' Curse you for a silly ass ! ' said Winton.
1 Don't do that.'
No one is expected to be polite while under
punishment, so Vernon, sinking his sub-prefect-
ship, replied peacefully enough :
< Well, don't be wrathy, Pater.'
{ I'm not,' said Winton. * Get out ! This
ain't your House form-room.'
' 'Form-room don't belong to you. Why don't
you go to your own study ? ' Vernon replied.
' Because Mullins is there waitin' for the
258 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
victim,' said Stalky delicately, and they all laughed.
' You ought to have shaken that mouse out of
your trouser-leg, Pater. That's the way / did in
my youth. Pater's revertin' to his second child-
hood. Never mind, Pater, we all respect you and
your future caree-ah.'
Winton, still writhing, growled. Vernon
leaning on the desk somehow shook it again.
Then he laughed.
' What are you grinning at ? ' Winton asked.
' I was only thinkin' of you being sent up to
take a lickin' from Pot. I swear I don't think
it's fair. You've never shirked a game in your
life, and you're as good as in the First Fifteen
already. Your Cap ought to have been delivered
last week, oughtn't it ? '
It was law in the school that no man could
by any means enjoy the privileges and immunities
of the First Fifteen till the black velvet cap with
the gold tassel, made by dilatory Exeter outfitters,
had been actually set on his head. Ages ago,
a large -built and unruly Second Fifteen had
attempted to change this law, but the prefects of
that age were still larger, and the lively experiment
had never been repeated.
' Will you,' said Winton very slowly, ' kindly
mind your own damned business, you cursed,
clumsy, fat-headed fool ? '
The form-room was as silent as the empty field
in the darkness outside. Vernon shifted his feet
uneasily.
' Well, / shouldn't like to take a lickin' from
Pot,' he said.
REGULUS
259
* Wouldn't you ? ' Winton asked, as he paged
the sheets of lines with hands that shook.
' No, I shouldn't,' said Vernon, his freckles
growing more distinct on the bridge of his white
nose.
' Well, I'm going to take it ' — -Winton moved
clear of the desk as he spoke. ' But you re going
to take a lickin' from me first.' Before any one
realised it, he had flung himself neighing against
Vernon. No decencies were observed on either
side, and the rest looked on amazed. The two
met confusedly, Vernon trying to do what he
could with his longer reach ; Winton, insensible
to blows, only concerned to drive his enemy into
a corner and batter him to pulp. This he managed
over against the fireplace, where Vernon dropped
half-stunned. ' Now I'm going to give you your
lickin',' said Winton. ' Lie there till I get a
ground-ash and I'll cut you to pieces. If you
move, I'll chuck you out of the window.'
He wound his hands into the boy's collar and
waistband, and had actually heaved him half off
the ground before the others with one accord
dropped on his head, shoulders, and legs. He
fought them crazily in an awful hissing silence.
Stalky's sensitive nose was rubbed along the floor :
Beetle received a jolt in the wind that sent him
whistling and crowing against the wall ; Perowne's
forehead was cut, and Malpass came out with an
eye that explained itself like a dying rainbow
through a whole week.
' Mad ! Quite mad ! ' said Stalky, and for the
third time wriggled back to Winton's throat.
260 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
The door opened and King came in, Hartopp's
little figure just behind him. The mound on the
floor panted and heaved but did not rise, for
Winton still squirmed vengefully. ' Only a little
play, sir,' said Perowne. ' 'Only hit my head
against a form.' This was quite true.
' Oh,' said King. ' Dimovit obstantes propinqnos.
You, I presume, are the populus delaying Winton's
return to — Mullins, eh ? '
' No, sir,' said Stalky behind his claret-coloured
handkerchief. ' We're the maerentes amicos.'
1 Not bad ! You see, some of it sticks after
all,' King chuckled to Hartopp, and the two
masters left without further inquiries.
The boys sat still on the now passive Winton.
* Well,' said Stalky at last, ' of all the putrid
he-asses, Pater, you are the '
1 I'm sorry. I'm awfully sorry,' Winton began,
and they let him rise. He held out his hand to
the bruised and bewildered Vernon. ' Sorry,
Paddy. I — I must have lost my temper. I — I
don't know what's the matter with me.'
' 'Fat lot of good that'll do my face at tea,'
Vernon grunted. ' Why couldn't you say there
was something wrong with you instead of lamming
out like a lunatic? Is my lip puffy? '
* Just a trifle. Look at my beak ! Well, we
got all these pretty marks at footer — owin' to the
zeal with which we played the game,' said Stalky,
dusting himself. ' But d'you think you're fit to
be let loose again, Pater ? 'Sure you don't want
to kill another sub-prefect ? I wish / was Pot.
I'd cut your sprightly young soul out/
REGULUS 261
' I s'pose I ought to go to Pot now,' said
Winton.
* And let all the other asses see you lookin' like
this ! Not much. We'll all come up to Number
Five Study and wash off in hot water. Beetle, you
aren't damaged. Go along and light the gas-
stove.'
' There's a tin of cocoa in my study somewhere,'
Perowne shouted after him. ' Rootle round till
you find it, and take it up.'
Separately, by different roads, Vernon's jersey
pulled half over his head, the boys repaired to
Number Five Study. Little Hartopp and King,
I am sorry to say, leaned over the banisters of
King's landing and watched.
'Ve-ry human,' said little Hartopp. 'Your
virtuous Winton, having got himself into trouble,
takes it out of my poor old Paddy. I wonder
what precise lie Paddy will tell about his face.'
1 But surely you aren't going to embarrass him
by asking ? ' said King.
* Tour boy won,' said Hartopp.
'To go back to what we were discussing,' said
King quickly, ' do you pretend that your modern
system of inculcating unrelated facts about chlorine,
for instance, all of which may be proved fallacies
by the time the boys grow up, can have any real
bearing on education — even the low type of it that
examiners expect ? '
' I maintain nothing. But is it any worse
than your Chinese reiteration of uncomprehended
syllables in a dead tongue ? '
' Dead, forsooth ! ' King fairly danced. ' The
262 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
only living tongue on earth ! Chinese ! On my
word, Hartopp ! '
' And at the end of seven years — how often
have I said it ?' Hartopp went on, — 'seven years of
two hundred and twenty days of six hours each,
your victims go away with nothing, absolutely
nothing, except, perhaps, if they've been very
attentive, a dozen — no, I'll grant you twenty — one
score of totally unrelated Latin tags which any
child of twelve could have absorbed in two
terms.'
' But — but can't you realise that if our system
brings later — at any rate — at a pinch — a simple
understanding — grammar and Latinity apart — a
mere glimpse of the significance (foul word !) of,
we'll say, one Ode of Horace, one twenty lines of
Virgil, we've got what we poor devils of ushers
are striving after ? '
' And what might that be ? ' said Hartopp.
c Balance, proportion, perspective — life. Your
scientific man is the unrelated animal — the beast
without background. Haven't you ever realised
that in your atmosphere of stinks ? '
' Meantime you make them lose life for the
sake of living, eh ? '
' Blind again, Hartopp ! I told you about
Paddy's quotation this morning. (But he made
prohrosis a verb, he did !) You yourself heard
young Corkran's reference to maerentes amicos. It
sticks — a little of it sticks among the barbarians.'
' Absolutely and essentially Chinese,' said little
Hartopp, who, alone of the common-room, refused
to be outfaced by King. ' But I don't yet under-
REGULUS 263
stand how Paddy came to be licked by Winton.
Paddy's supposed to be something of a boxer.'
' Beware of vinegar made from honey,' King
replied. ' Pater, like some other people, is patient
and long-suffering, but he has his limits. The
Head is oppressing him damnably, too. As I
pointed out, the boy has practically been in the
First Fifteen since term began.'
' But, my dear fellow, I've known you give a
boy an impot and refuse him leave off games,
again and again.'
' Ah, but that was when there was real need to
get at some oaf who couldn't be sensitised in any
other way. Now, in our esteemed Head's action
I see nothing but '
The conversation from this point does not
concern us.
Meantime Winton, very penitent and especially
polite towards Vernon, was being cheered with
cocoa in Number Five Study. They had some
difficulty in stemming the flood of his apologies.
He himself pointed out to Vernon that he had
attacked a sub-prefect for no reason whatever,
and, therefore, deserved official punishment.
'I can't think what was the matter with me
to-day,' he mourned. ' Ever since that blasted
mouse business '
'Well, then, don't think,' said Stalky. 'Or
do you want Paddy to make a row about it before
all the school ? '
Here Vernon was understood to say that he
would see Winton and all the school somewhere
else.
264 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' And if you imagine Perowne and Malpass
and me are goin' to give evidence at a prefects'
meeting just to soothe your beastly conscience,
you jolly well err,' said Beetle. ' I know what
you did.'
* What ? ' croaked Pater, out of the valley of
his humiliation.
4 You went Berserk. I've read all about it in
Hypatia*
' What's " going Berserk " ? ' Winton asked.
' Never you mind,' was the reply. * Now,
don't you feel awfully weak and seedy ? '
' I am rather tired,' said Winton, sighing.
1 That's what you ought to be. You've gone
Berserk and pretty soon you'll go to sleep. But
you'll probably be liable to fits of it all your life,'
Beetle concluded. ' 'Shouldn't wonder if you
murdered some one some day.'
' Shut up — you and your Berserks ! ' said Stalky.
' Go to Mullins now and get it over, Pater.'
' I call it filthy unjust of the Head,' said
Vernon. ' Anyhow, you've given me my lickin',
old man. I hope Pot '11 give you yours.'
* I'm awfully sorry — awfully sorry,' was
Winton's last word.
It was the custom in that consulship to deal
with games' defaulters between five o'clock call-
over and tea. Mullins, who was old enough to
pity, did not believe in letting boys wait through
the night till the chill of the next morning for
their punishments. He was finishing off the last
of the small fry and their excuses when Winton
arrived.
REGULUS 265
* But, please, Mullins ' — this was Babcock
tertius, a dear little twelve-year-old mother's
darling — ' I had an awful hack on the knee. I've
been to the Matron about it and she gave me
some iodine. I've been rubbing it in all day.
I thought that would be an excuse off.'
* Let's have a look at it,' said the impassive
Mullins. ' That's a shin-bruise — about a week
old. Touch your toes. I'll give you the iodine.'
Babcock yelled loudly as he had many times
before. The face of Jevons, aged eleven, a new
boy that dark wet term, low in the House, low in
the Lower School, and lowest of all in his home-
sick little mind, turned white at the horror of
the sight. They could hear his working lips part
stickily as Babcock wailed his way out of hearing.
' Hullo, Jevons ! What brings you here ? '
said Mullins.
' Pl-ease, sir, I went for a walk with Babcock
tertius.'
' Did you ? Then I bet you went to the tuck-
shop — and you paid, didn't you ? '
A nod. Jevons was too terrified to speak.
* Of course, and I bet Babcock told you that
old Pot 'ud let you off because it was the first
time.'
Another nod with a ghost of a smile in it.
' All right.' Mullins picked Jevons up before
he could guess what was coming, laid him on
the table with one hand, with the other gave him
three emphatic spanks, then held him high in air.
4 Now you tell Babcock tertius that he's got
you a licking from me, and see you jolly well pay
266 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
it back to him. And when you're prefect of games
don't you let any one shirk his footer without a
written excuse. Where d'you play in your game ?'
4 Forward, sir.'
* You can do better than that. I've seen you
run like a young buck-rabbit. Ask Dickson from
me to try you as three-quarter next game, will
you? Cut along.'
Jevons left, warm for the first time that day,
enormously set up in his own esteem, and very
hot against the deceitful Babcock.
Mullins turned to Winton. ' Your name's on
the list, Pater.' Winton nodded.
' I know it. The Head landed me with an
impot for that mouse-business at mechanical
drawing. No excuse.'
' He meant it then ? ' Mullins jerked his head
delicately towards the ground-ash on the table.
' I heard something about it.'
Winton nodded. ' A rotten thing to do,' he
said. * Can't think what I was doing ever to do
it. It counts against a fellow so ; and there's
some more too '
1 All right, Pater. Just stand clear of our photo-
bracket, will you ? '
The little formality over, there was a pause.
Winton swung round, yawned in Pot's astonished
face and staggered towards the window-seat.
1 What's the matter v/ith you, Dick ? Ill ? '
' No. Perfectly all right, thanks. Only — only
a little sleepy.' Winton stretched himself out,
and then and there fell deeply and placidly asleep.
* It isn't a faint,' said the experienced Mullins,
REGULUS 267
' or his pulse wouldn't act. 'Tisn't a fit or he'd
snort and twitch. It can't be sunstroke, this term,
and he hasn't been over-training for anything.'
He opened Winton's collar, packed a cushion under
his head, threw a rug over him and sat down to
listen to the regular breathing. Before long
Stalky arrived, on pretence of borrowing a book.
He looked at the window-seat.
' 'Noticed anything wrong with Winton lately ?'
said Mullins.
' 'Notice anything wrong with my beak ? ' Stalky
replied. * Pater went Berserk after call-over, and
fell on a lot of us for jesting with him about his
impot. You ought to see Malpass's eye.'
* You mean that Pater fought ? ' said Mullins.
' Like a devil. Then he nearly went to sleep
in our study just now. I expect he'll be all right
when he wakes up. Rummy business ! Con-
scientious old bargee. You ought to have heard
his apologies.'
'But Pater can't fight one little bit,' Mullins
repeated.
' 'T wasn't fighting. He just tried to murder
every one.' Stalky described the affair, and when
he left Mullins went off to take counsel with the
Head, who, out of a cloud of blue smoke, told him
that all would yet be well.
' Winton,' said he, ' is a little stiff in his moral
joints. He'll get over that. If he asks you
whether to-day's doings will count against
him in his '
1 But you know it's important to him, sir.
His people aren't — very well off,' said Mullins.
268 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
1 That's why I'm taking all this trouble. You
must reassure him, Pot. I have overcrowded him
with new experiences. Oh, by the way, has his
Cap come ? '
* It came at dinner, sir.' Mullins laughed.
Sure enough, when he waked at tea-time,
Winton proposed to take Mullins all through
every one of his day's lapses from grace, and ' Do
you think it will count against me ? ' said he.
1 Don't you fuss so much about yourself and
your silly career,' said Mullins. ' You're all
right. And oh — here's your First Cap at last.
Shove it up on the bracket and come on to
tea.'
They met King on their way, stepping statelily
and rubbing his hands. ' I have applied/ said
he, ' for the services of an additional sub-prefect
in Carton's unlamented absence. Your name,
Winton, seems to have found favour with the
powers that be, and — and all things considered —
I am disposed to give my support to the nomina-
tion. You are therefore a quasi-lictor.'
* Then it didn't count against me,' Winton
gasped as soon as they were out of hearing.
A Captain of Games can jest with a sub-
prefect publicly.
' You utter ass ! ' said Mullins, and caught him
by the back of his stiff neck and ran him down
to the hall where the sub-prefects, who sit below
the salt, made him welcome with the economical
bloater-paste of mid-term.
King and little Hartopp were sparring in the
REGULUS 269
Reverend John Gillett's study at 10 p.m. — classical
versus modern as usual.
' Character — proportion — background,' snarled
King. 'That is the essence of the Humanities.'
'Analects of Confucius,' little Hartopp answered.
' Time,' said the Reverend John behind the soda-
water. ' You men oppress me. Hartopp, what
did you say to Paddy in your dormitories to-night?
~E.vzn you couldn't have overlooked his face.'
c But I did,' said Hartopp calmly. ' I wasn't
even humorous about it, as some clerics might
have been. I went straight through and said
naught.'
' Poor Paddy ! Now, for my part,' said King,
' and you know I am not lavish in my praises, I
consider Winton a first-class type ; absolutely first-
class.'
' Ha-ardly,' said the Reverend John. ' First-
class of the second class, I admit. The very best
type of second class but ' — he shook his head — ' it
should have been a rat. Pater'll never be anything
more than a Colonel of Engineers.'
' What do you base that verdict on ? ' said King
stiffly.
' He came to me after prayers — with all his
conscience.'
' Poor old Pater. Was it the mouse ? ' said
little Hartopp.
' That, and what he called his uncontrollable
temper, and his responsibilities as sub-prefect.'
' And you ? '
' If we had had what is vulgarly called a pi-jaw
he'd have had hysterics. So I recommended a
270 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
dose of Epsom salts. He'll take it, too — con-
scientiously. Don't eat me, King. Perhaps he'll
be a K.C.B.'
Ten o'clock struck and the Army class boys in
the further studies coming to their houses after an
hour's extra work passed along the gravel path
below. Some one was chanting, to the tune of
' White sand and grey sand,' Dis te minor em quod
geris imperas. He stopped outside Mullins' study.
They heard Mullins' window slide up and then
Stalky's voice :
4 Ah ! Good-evening, Mullins, my barbarus
torior. We're the waits. We have come to inquire
after the local Berserk. Is he doin' as well as can
be expected in his new caree-ah ? '
' Better than you will, in a sec, Stalky,' Mullins
grunted.
1 'Glad of that. We thought he'd like to know
that Paddy has been carried to the sick-house in
ravin' delirium. They think it's concussion of the
brain/
1 Why, he was all right at prayers,' Winton
began earnestly, . and they heard a laugh in the
background as Mullins slammed down the window.
' 'Night, Regulus,' Stalky sang out, and the
light footsteps went on.
'You see. It sticks. A little of it sticks
among the barbarians,' said King.
' Amen,' said the Reverend John. ' Go to bed.'
A TRANSLATION
Horace, Bk. V. Ode 3
There are whose study is of smells,
And to attentive schools rehearse
How something mixed with something else
Makes something worse.
Some cultivate in broths impure
The clients of our body — these,
Increasing without Venus, cure,
Or cause, disease.
Others the heated wheel extol,
And all its offspring, whose concern
Is how to make it farthest roll
And fastest turn.
Me, much incurious if the hour
Present, or to be paid for, brings
Me to Brundusium by the power
Of wheels or wings ;
271
272 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Me, in whose breast no flame hath burned
Life-long, save that by Pindar lit,
Such lore leaves cold : I am not turned
Aside to it
More than when, sunk in thought profound
Of what the unaltering Gods require,
My steward (friend but slave) brings round
Logs for my fire.
The Edge of the Evening
(1913)
Ah ! What avails the classic bent,
And what the chosen word,
Against the undoctored incident
That actually occurred ?
And what is Art whereto we press
Through paint and prose and rhyme —
When Nature in her nakedness
Defeats us every time ?
' Hi ! Hi ! Hold your horses ! Stop ! . . .
Well ! Well ! ' A lean man in a sable - lined
overcoat leaped from a private car and barred my
way up Pall Mall. ' You don't know me ?
You're excusable. I wasn't wearing much of
anything last time we met — in South Africa.'
The scales fell from my eyes, and I saw him
once more in a sky-blue army shirt, behind barbed
wire, among Dutch prisoners bathing at Simons-
town, more than a dozen years ago.1 * Why, it's
Zigler — Laughton O. Zigler I' I cried. 'Well,
I am glad to see you.'
1 ' The Captive ' : Traffics and Discoveries.
273 T
274 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* Oh no ! You don't work any of your
English on me. "So glad to see you, doncher
know— an' ta-ta !" Do you reside in this village ?'
' No. I'm up here buying stores.'
1 Then you take my automobile. Where to ?
. . . Oh, I know them ! My Lord Marshalton
is one of the Directors. Pigott, drive to the
Army and Navy Co-operative Supply Association
Limited, Victoria Street, Westminister.'
He settled himself on the deep dove-colour
pneumatic cushions, and his smile was like the
turning on of all the electrics. His teeth were
whiter than the ivory fittings. He smelt of rare
soap and cigarettes — such cigarettes as he handed
me from a golden box with an automatic lighter.
On my side of the car was a gold-mounted mirror,
card and toilette case. I looked at him inquiringly.
' Yes,' he nodded, ' two years after I quit the
Cape. She's not an Ohio girl, though. She's in
the country now. Is that right? She's at our
little place in the country. We'll go there as
soon as you're through with your grocery-list.
Engagements ? The only engagement you've got
is to grab your grip — get your bag from your hotel,
I mean — and come right along and meet her.
You are the captive of my bow and spear now.'
' I surrender,' I said meekly. * Did the Zigler
automatic gun do all this ? ' I pointed to the car
fittings.
' Psha ! Think of your rememberin' that !
Well, no. The Zigler is a great gun — the greatest
ever — but life's too short, an' too interestin', to
squander on pushing her in military society. I've
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 275
leased my rights in her to a Pennsylvanian-Tran-
sylvanian citizen full of mentality and moral
uplift- If those things weigh with the Chancel-
leries of Europe, he will make good and — I shall
be surprised. Excuse me ! '
He bared his head as we passed the statue of
the Great Queen outside Buckingham Palace.
* A very great lady ! ' said he. * I have enjoyed
her hospitality. She represents one of the most
wonderful institutions in the world. The next is
the one we are going to. Mrs. Zigler uses 'em, and
they break her up every week on returned empties.'
' Oh, you mean the Stores ? ' I said.
' Mrs. Zigler means it more. They are quite
ambassadorial in their outlook. I guess I'll wait
outside and pray while you wrestle with 'em.'
My business at the Stores finished, and my bag
retrieved from the hotel, his moving palace slid us
into the country.
* I owe it to you,' Zigler began as smoothly as
the car, ' to tell you what I am now. I represent
the business end of the American Invasion. Not
the blame cars themselves — I wouldn't be found
dead in one — but the tools that make 'em. I am
the Zigler Higher-Speed Tool and Lathe Trust.
The Trust, sir, is entirely my own — in my own
inventions. I am the Renzalaer ten -cylinder
aerial — the lightest aeroplane-engine on the market
— one price, one power, one guarantee. I am
the Orlebar Paper-welt, Pulp-panel Company for
aeroplane bodies ; and I am the Rush Silencer for
military aeroplanes — absolutely silent — which the
Continent leases under royalty. With three
276 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
exceptions, the British aren't wise to it yet.
That's all I represent at present. You saw me
take off my hat to your late Queen ? I owe every
cent I have to that great an' good Lady. Yes,
sir, I came out of Africa, after my eighteen months'
rest-cure and open-air treatment and sea-bathing,
as her prisoner of war, like a giant refreshed.
There wasn't anything could hold me, when I'd
got my hooks into it, after that experience. And
to you as a representative British citizen, I say
here and now that I regard you as the founder of
the family fortune — Tommy's and mine.'
' But I only gave you some papers and tobacco.'
* What more does any citizen need ? The
Cullinan diamond wouldn't have helped me as
much then ; an' — talking about South Africa, tell
me '
We talked about South Africa till the car
stopped at the Georgian lodge of a great park.
' We'll get out here. I want to show you a
rather sightly view,' said Zigler.
We walked, perhaps, half a mile, across timber-
dotted turf, past a lake, entered a dark rhodo-
dendron-planted wood, ticking with the noise of
pheasants' feet, and came out suddenly, where five
rides met, at a small classic temple between
lichened stucco statues which faced a circle of turf,
several acres in extent. Irish yews, of a size that
I had never seen before, walled the sunless circle
like cliffs of riven obsidian, except at the lower
end, where it gave on to a stretch of undulating
bare ground ending in a timbered slope half-a-mile
away.
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 277
' That's where the old Marshalton race-course
used to be,' said Zigler. ' That ice-house is called
Flora's Temple. Nell Gwynne and Mrs. Siddons
an' Taglioni an' all that crowd used to act plays
here for King George the Third. Wasn't it ?
Well, George is the only king I play. Let it go
at that. This circle was the stage, I guess. The
kings an' the nobility sat in Flora's Temple. I
forget who sculped these statues at the door.
They're the Comic and Tragic Muse. But it's a
sightly view, ain't it ? '
The sunlight was leaving the park. I caught
a glint of silver to the southward beyond the
wooded ridge.
' That's the ocean — the Channel, I mean,' said
Zigler. * It's twenty-three miles as a man flies.
A sightly view, ain't it ? '
I looked at the severe yews, the dumb yelling
mouths of the two statues, at the blue-green
shadows on the unsunned grass, and at the still
bright plain in front where some deer were feeding.
I It's a most dramatic contrast, but I think it
would be better on a summer's day,' I said, and
we went on, up one of the noiseless rides, a quarter
of a mile at least, till we came to the porticoed
front of an enormous Georgian pile. Four foot-
men revealed themselves in a hall hung with
pictures.
I I hired this off of my Lord Marshalton,'
Zigler explained, while they helped us out of our
coats under the severe eyes of ruffed and peri-
wigged ancestors. ' Ya-as. They always look at
me too, as if I'd blown in from the gutter.
278 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Which, of course, I have. That's Mary, Lady
Marshalton. Old man Joshua painted her. Do
you see any likeness to my Lord Marshalton ?
Why, haven't you ever met up with him ? He
was Captain Mankeltow — my Royal British
Artillery captain that blew up my gun in the war,
an' then tried to bury me against my religious
principles.1 Ya-as. His father died and he got
the lordship. That was about all he got by the
time that your British death-duties were through
with him. So he said I'd oblige him by hiring
his ranch. It's a hell an' a half of a proposition
to handle, but Tommy — Mrs. Laughton — under-
stands it. Come right in to the parlour and be
very welcome.'
He guided me, hand on shoulder, into a babble
of high-pitched talk and laughter that filled a vast
drawing-room. He introduced me as the founder
of the family fortunes to a little, lithe, dark-eyed
woman whose speech and greeting were of the
soft-lipped South. She in turn presented me to
her mother, a black-browed, snowy -haired old
lady with a cap of priceless Venetian point, hands
that must have held many hearts in their time,
and a dignity as unquestioned and unquestioning
as an empress. She was, indeed, a Burton of
Savannah, who, on their own ground, out-rank
the Lees of Virginia. The rest of the company
came from Buffalo, Cincinnati, Cleveland and
Chicago, with here and there a softening southern
strain. A party of young folk popped corn
beneath a mantelpiece surmounted by a Gains-
1 ' The Captive ' : Traffics and Discoveries.
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 279
borough. Two portly men, half hidden by a
cased harp, discussed, over sheaves of type-
written documents, the terms of some contract.
A knot of matrons talked servants — Irish versus
German — across the grand piano. A youth
ravaged an old bookcase, while beside him a tall
girl stared at the portrait of a woman of many
loves, dead three hundred years, but now leaping
to life and warning under the shaded frame-light.
In a corner half-a-dozen girls examined the glazed
tables that held the decorations — English and
foreign — of the late Lord Marshalton.
4 See heah ! Would this be the Ordeh of the
Gyartah ? ' one said, pointing.
' I presoom likely. No ! The Garter has
" Honey swore " — I know that much. This is
" Tria juncta " something.'
1 Oh, what's that cunning little copper cross
with " For Valurr " ? ' a third cried.
* Say ! Look at here ! ' said the young man at
the bookcase. * Here's a first edition of Handley
Cross and a Beewick's Birds right next to it —
just like so many best sellers. Look, Maidie ! '
The girl beneath the picture half turned her
body but not her eyes.
* You don't tell me ! ' she said slowly. ' Their
women amounted to something after all.'
' But Woman's scope and outlook was vurry
limmutted in those days,' one of the matrons put
in, from the piano.
' Limutted ? For her'? If they whurr, I guess
she was the limmut. Who was she ? Peters,
whurr's the cat'log ? '
28o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
A thin butler, in charge of two footmen
removing the tea-batteries, slid to a table and
handed her a blue-and-gilt book. He was button-
holed by one of the men behind the harp, who
wished to get a telephone call through to
Edinburgh.
* The local office shuts at six/ said Peters.
' But I can get through to ' — he named some town
— ' in ten minutes, sir.'
* That suits me. You'll find me here when
you've hitched up. Oh, say, Peters ! We —
Mister Olpherts an' me — ain't goin' by that
early morning train to-morrow — but the other one
— on the other line — whatever they call it.'
' The nine twenty-seven, sir. Yes, sir. Early
breakfast will be at half-past eight and the car
will be at the door at nine.'
' Peters ! ' an imperious young voice called.
* What's the matteh with Lord Marshalton's
Ordeh of the Gyartah ? We cyan't find it
anywheah.'
' Well, miss, I have heard that that Order is
usually returned to His Majesty on the death of
the holder. Yes, miss.' Then in a whisper to
a footman, ' More butter for the pop-corn in
King Charles's Corner.' He stopped behind my
chair. ' Your room is Number Eleven, sir. May
I trouble you for your keys ? '
He left the room with a six-year-old maiden
called Alice who had announced she would not
go to bed ' 'less Peter, Peter, Punkin-eater takes
me — so there ! '
He very kindly looked in on me for a moment
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 281
as I was dressing for dinner. * Not at all, sir,'
he replied to some compliment I paid him. ' I
valeted the late Lord Marshalton for fifteen
years. He was very abrupt in his movements,
sir. As a rule I never received more than an
hour's notice of a journey. We used to go to
Syria frequently. I have been twice to Babylon.
Mr. and Mrs. Zigler's requirements are, com-
paratively speaking, few.'
' But the guests ? '
' Very little out of the ordinary as soon as one
knows their ordinaries. Extremely simple, if I
may say so, sir.'
I had the privilege of taking Mrs. Burton
in to dinner, and was rewarded with an entirely
new, and to me rather shocking, view of Abraham
Lincoln, who, she said, had wasted the heritage
of his land by blood and fire, and had surrendered
the remnant to aliens. ' My brother, suh,' she
said, ' fell at Gettysburg in order that Armenians
should colonise New England to-day. If I took
any interest in any dam-Yankee outside of my
son-in-law Laughton yondah, I should say that my
brother's death had been amply avenged.'
The man at her right took up the challenge,
and the war spread. Her eyes twinkled over the
flames she had lit.
' Don't these folk,' she said a little later,
' remind you of Arabs picnicking under the
Pyramids ? '
' I've never seen the Pyramids,' I replied.
' Hm ! I didn't know you were as English
as all that.' And when I laughed, ' Are you ? '
282 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Always. It saves trouble.'
'Now that's just what I find so significant
among the English ' — this was Alice's mother,
I think, with one elbow well forward among the
salted almonds. ' Oh, I know how you feel,
Madam Burton, but a Northerner like myself —
I'm Buffalo — even though we come over every
year — notices the desire for comfort in England.
There's so little conflict or uplift in British
society.'
' But we like being comfortable,' I said.
' I know it. It's very characteristic. But
ain't it a little, just a little, lacking in adaptability
an' imagination ? '
' They haven't any need for adaptability,'
Madam Burton struck in. ' They haven't any
Ellis Island standards to live up to.'
' But we can assimilate,' the Buffalo woman
charged on.
' Now you have done it ! ' I whispered to the
old lady as the blessed word * assimilation ' woke
up all the old arguments for and against.
There was not a dull moment in that dinner for
me — nor afterwards when the boys and girls at the
piano played the rag-time tunes of their own land,
while their elders, inexhaustiblyinterested,replunged
into the discussion of that land's future, till there
was talk of coon-can. When all the company
had been set to tables Zigler led me into his
book-lined study, where I noticed he kept his
golf-clubs, and spoke simply as a child, gravely as
a bishop, of the years that were past since our last
meeting. . . .
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 283
'That's about all, I guess — up to date,' he
said when he had unrolled the bright map of his
fortunes across three continents. ' Bein' rich
suits me. So does your country, sir. My own
country ? You heard what that Detroit man
said at dinner. " A Government of the alien,
by the alien, for the alien." Mother's right, too.
Lincoln killed us. From the highest motives —
but he killed us. Oh, say, that reminds me.
'J'ever kill a man from the highest motives ? '
' Not from any motive — as far as I remember.'
' Well, I have. It don't weigh on my mind
any, but it was interesting. Life is interesting
for a rich — for any — man in England. Ya-as !
Life in England is like settin' in the front row
at the theatre and never knowin' when the whole
blame drama won't spill itself into your lap. I
didn't always know that. I lie abed now, and
I blush to think of some of the breaks I made
in South Africa. About the British. Not your
official method of doin' business. But the Spirit.
I was 'way, 'way off on the Spirit. Are you
acquainted with any other country where you'd
have to kill a man or two to get at the National
Spirit ? '
' Well,' I answered, ' next to marrying one of
its women, killing one of its men makes for
pretty close intimacy with any country. I take
it you killed a British citizen.'
* Why, no. Our syndicate confined its opera-
tions to aliens — dam-fool aliens. . . . 'J'ever
know an English lord called Lundie l ? Looks
1 ' The Puzzler ' : Actions and Reactions.
284 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
like a frame-food and soap advertisement. I
imagine he was in your Supreme Court before he
came into his lordship.'
1 He is a lawyer — what we call a Law Lord —
a Judge of Appeal — not a real hereditary lord.'
* That's as much beyond me as this ! ' Zigler
slapped a fat Debrett on the table. * But I
presoom this unreal Law Lord Lundie is kind o'
real in his decisions ? I judged so. And — one
more question. 'Ever meet a man called Walen ? '
' D'you mean Burton-Walen, the editor of
,' I mentioned the journal.
' That's him. 'Looks like a tough, talks like
a Maxim, and trains with kings.'
* He does,' I said. ' Burton-Walen knows ail
the crowned heads of Europe intimately. It's his
hobby.'
' Well, there's the whole outfit for you —
exceptin' my Lord Marshalton, ne Mankeltow,
an' me. All active murderers — specially the Law
Lord — or accessories after the fact. And what
do they hand you out for that, in this country ? '
'Twenty years, I believe,' was my reply.
He reflected a moment.
1 No-o-o,' he said, and followed it with -a
smoke-ring. ' Twenty months at the Cape is my
limit. Say, murder ain't the soul - shatterin'
event those nature-fakers in the magazines make
out. It develops naturally like any other pro-
position. . . . Say, j'ever play this golf game?
It's come up in the States from Maine to California,
an' we're prodoocin' all the champions in sight.
Not a business man's play, but interestin'. I've
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 285
got a golf-links in the park here that they tell me
is the finest inland course ever. I had to pay extra
for that when I hired the ranche — last year. It
was just before I signed the papers that our murder
eventuated. My Lord Marshalton he asked me
down for the week-end to fix up something or
other — about Peters and the linen, I think 'twas.
Mrs. Zigler took a holt of the proposition. She
understood Peters from the word "go." There
wasn't any house-party ; only fifteen or twenty
folk. A full house is thirty-two, Tommy tells
me. 'Guess we must be near on that to-night.
In the smoking-room here, my Lord Marshalton
— Mankeltow that was — introduces me to this
Walen man with the nose. He'd been in the
War too, from start to finish. He knew all the
columns and generals that I'd battled with in the
days of my Zigler gun. We kinder fell into each
other's arms an' let the harsh world go by for a
while.
* Walen he introduces me to your Lord Lundie.
He was a new proposition to me. If he hadn't
been a lawyer he'd have made a lovely cattle-king.
I thought I had played poker some. Another of
my breaks. Ya-as ! It cost me eleven hundred
dollars besides what Tommy said when I retired.
I have no fault to find with your hereditary aristo-
cracy, or your judiciary, or your press.
' Sunday we all went to Church across the
Park here. . . . Psha ! Think o' your rememberin'
my religion ! I've become an Episcopalian since
I married. Ya-as. . . . After lunch Walen did
his crowned-heads-of-Europe stunt in the smokin'-
286 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
room here. He was long on Kings. And Con-
tinental crises. I do not pretend to follow British
domestic politics, but in the aeroplane business a
man has to know something of international possi-
bilities. At present, you British are settin' in
kimonoes on dynamite kegs. Walen's talk put
me wise on the location and size of some of the
kegs. Ya-as !
' After that, we four went out to look at those
golf-links I was hirin'. We each took a club.
Mine ' — he glanced at a great tan bag by the fire-
place— 'was the beginner's friend — the cleek.
Well, sir, this golf proposition took a holt of me
as quick as — quick as death. They had to prise
me off the greens when it got too dark to see, and
then we went back to the house. I was walkin'
ahead with my Lord Marshalton talkin' beginners'
golf. (/ was the man who ought to have been
killed by rights.) We cut 'cross lots through the
woods to Flora's Temple — that place I showed
you this afternoon. Lundie and Walen were,
maybe, twenty or thirty rod behind us in the
dark. Marshalton and I stopped at the theatre
to admire at the ancestral yew-trees. He took
me right under the biggest — King Somebody's
Yew — and while I was spannin' it with my hand-
kerchief, he says, " Look heah ! " just as if it was
a rabbit — and down comes a bi-plane into the
theatre with no more noise than the dead. My
Rush Silencer is the only one on the market that
allows that sort of gumshoe work. . . . What ?
A bi-plane — with two men in it. Both men jump
out and start fussin' with the engines. I was
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 287
starting to tell Mankeltow— I can't remember to
call him Marshalton any more — that it looked
as if the Royal British Flying Corps had got on
to my Rush Silencer at last ; but he steps out
from under the yew to these two Stealthy Steves
and says, " What's the trouble ? Can I be of any
service ? " He thought — so did I — 'twas some
of the boys from Aldershot or Salisbury. Well,
sir, from there on, the situation developed like a
motion-picture in Hell. The man on the nigh
side of the machine whirls round, pulls his gun
and fires into Mankeltow's face. I laid him out
with my cleek automatically. Any one who
shoots a friend of mine gets what's comin' to him
if I'm within reach. He drops. Mankeltow
rubs his neck with his handkerchief. The man
the far side of the machine starts to run. Lundie
down the ride, or it might have been Walen,
shouts, " What's happened ? " Mankeltow says,
l< Collar that chap."
' The second man runs ring-a-ring-o'-roses
round the machine, one hand reachin' behind him.
Mankeltow heads him off to me. He breaks
blind for Walen and Lundie, who are runnin' up
the ride. There's some sort of mix-up among
'em, which it's too dark to see, and a thud.
Walen says, " Oh, well collared ! " Lundie says,
"That's the only thing I never learned at
Harrow ! " . . . Mankeltow runs up to 'em, still
rubbin' his neck, and says, " He didn't fire at me.
It was the other chap. Where is he ? "
' " I've stretched him alongside his machine,"
I says.
288 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' " Are they poachers ?" says Lundie.
' " No. Airmen. I can't make it out," says
Mankeltow.
' " Look at here," says Walen, kind of brusque.
" This man ain't breathin' at all. Didn't you
hear somethin' crack when he lit, Lundie ? "
' " My God ! " says Lundie. " Did I ? I
thought it was my suspenders" — no, he said
'•' braces."
' Right there I left them and sort o' tip-toed
back to my man, hopin' he'd revived and quit.
But he hadn't. That darned cleek had hit him
on the back of the neck just where his helmet
stopped. He'd got his. I knew it by the way
the head rolled in my hands. Then the others
came up the ride totin' their load. No mistakin'
that shuffle on grass. D'you remember it — in
South Africa ? Ya-as.
' " Hsh ! " says Lundie. " Do you know I've
broken this man's neck ? "
' " Same here," I says.
' " What ? Both ? " says Mankeltow.
1 " Nonsense ! " says Lord Lundie. " Who'd
have thought he was that out of training ? A
man oughtn't to fly if he ain't fit."
' " What did they want here, anyway ? " said
Walen ; and Mankeltow says, " We can't leave
them in the open. Some one '11 come. Carry 'em
to Flora's Temple."
* We toted 'em again and laid 'em out on a
stone bench. They was still dead in spite of our
best attentions. We knew it, but we went through
the motions till it was quite dark. 'Wonder if all
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 289
murderers do that ? " We want a light on
this," says Walen after a spell. "There ought
to be one in the machine. Why didn't they
light it?"
'We came out of Flora's Temple, and shut
the doors behind us. Some stars were showing
then — same as when Cain did his little act, I
guess. I climbed up and searched the machine.
She was very well equipped. I found two electric
torches in clips alongside her barometers by the
rear seat.
' " What make is she ? " says Mankeltow.
' " Continental Renzalaer," I says. " My
engines and my Rush Silencer."
' Walen whistles, " Here — let me look," he
says, and grabs the other torch. She was sure
well equipped. We gathered up an armful of
cameras an' maps an' note-books an' an album of
mounted photographs which we took to Flora's
Temple and spread on a marble-topped table (I'll
show you to-morrow) which the King of Naples
had presented to grandfather Marshalton. Walen
starts to go through 'em. We wanted to know
why our friends had been so prejudiced against
our society.
' " Wait a minute," says Lord Lundie. " Lend
me a handkerchief."
' He pulls out his own, and Walen contributes
his green-and-red bandanna, and Lundie covers
their faces. "Now," he says, "we'll go into the
evidence."
' There wasn't any flaw in that evidence. Walen
read out their last observations, and Mankeltow
29o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
asked questions, and Lord Lundie sort o' sum-
marised, and I looked at the photos in the album.
'J'ever see a bird's-eye telephoto - survey of
England for military purposes ? It's interestin'
but indecent — like turnin' a man upside down.
None of those close-range panoramas of forts could
have been taken without my Rush Silencer.
' " I wish we was as thorough as they are," says
Mankeltow, when Walen stopped translatin'.
' " We've been thorough enough," says Lord
Lundie. " The evidence against both accused is
conclusive. Any other country would give 'em
seven years in a fortress. We should probably
give 'em eighteen months as first-class mis-
demeanants. But their case," he says, " is out
of our hands. We must review our own. Mr.
Zigler," he said, " will you tell us what steps you
took to bring about the death of the first accused ?"
I told him. He wanted to know specially whether
I'd stretched first accused before or after he had
fired at Mankeltow. Mankeltow testified he'd
been shot at, and exhibited his neck as evidence.
It was scorched.
' " Now, Mr. Walen," says Lord Lundie.
" Will you kindly tell us what steps you took
with regard to the second accused ? "
' " The man ran directly at me, me lord," says
Walen. " I said, ' Oh no, you don't,' and hit
him in the face."
' Lord Lundie lifts one hand and uncovers
second accused's face. There was a bruise on one
cheek and the chin was all greened with grass.
He was a heavy-built man.
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 291
'"What happened after that?" says Lord
Lundie.
* " To the best of my remembrance he turned
from me towards your lordship."
' Then Lundie goes ahead. " I stooped, and
caught the man round the ankles," he says. " The
sudden check threw him partially over my left
shoulder. I jerked him off that shoulder, still
holding his ankles, and he fell heavily on, it
would appear, the point of his chin, death being
instantaneous."
4 " Death being instantaneous," says Walen.
* Lord Lundie takes off his gown and wig —
you could see him do it — and becomes our fellow-
murderer. " That's our case," he says. " I know
how / should direct the jury, but it's an un-
dignified business for a Lord of Appeal to lift
his hand to, and some of my learned brothers,"
he says, " might be disposed to be facetious."
' I guess I can't be properly sensitised. Any
one who steered me out of that trouble might
have had the laugh on me for generations. But
I'm only a millionaire. I said we'd better search
second accused in case he'd been carryin' concealed
weapons.
' " That certainly is a point," says Lord Lundie.
"But the question for the jury would be whether
I exercised more force than was necessary to
prevent him from usin' them." / didn't say any-
thing. He wasn't talkin' my language. Second
accused had his gun on him sure enough, but it
had jammed in his hip-pocket. He was too fleshy
to reach behind for business purposes, and he
292 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
didn't look, a gun-man anyway. Both of 'em
carried wads of private letters. By the time
Walen had translated, we knew how many children
the fat one had at home and when the thin one
reckoned to be married. Too bad ! Ya-as.
1 Says Walen to me while we was rebuttonin'
their jackets (they was not in uniform) : " Ever
read a book called The Wreckers, Mr. Zigler ? "
' " Not that I recall at the present moment,"
I says.
* " Well, do," he says. " You'd appreciate it.
You'd appreciate it now, I assure you."
' " I'll remember," I says. " But I don't see
how this song and dance helps us any. Here's
our corpses, here's their machine, and daylight's
bound to come."
1 " Heavens ! That reminds me," says Lundie.
"What time's dinner? "
' " Half-past eight," says Mankeltow. " It's
half-past five now. We knocked off golf at
twenty to, and if they hadn't been such silly
asses, firin' pistols like civilians, we'd have had
them to dinner. Why, they might be sitting with
us in the smoking-room this very minute," he says.
Then he said that no man had a right to take his
profession so seriously as these two mountebanks.
' " How interestin' ! " says Lundie. " I've
noticed this impatient attitude toward their victim
in a good many murderers. I never understood
it before. Of course, it's the disposal of the body
that annoys 'em. Now, I wonder," he says, " who
our case will come up before ? Let's run through
it again."
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 293
1 Then Walen whirls in. He'd been bitin' his
nails in a corner. We was all nerved up by now.
. . . Me ? The worst of the bunch. I had to
think for Tommy as well.
"'We cant be tried," says Walen. "We
mustn't be tried ! It'll make an infernal inter-
national stink. What did I tell you in the
smoking-room after lunch? The tension's at
breaking-point already. This 'ud snap it. Can't
you see that ? "
* " I was thinking of the legal aspect of the
case," says Lundie. " With a good jury we'd
likely be acquitted."
' " Acquitted ! " says Walen. " Who'd dare
acquit us in the face of what 'ud be demanded
by — the other party ? Did you ever hear of the
War of Jenkins' ear ? 'Ever hear of Mason and
Slidell ? 'Ever hear of an ultimatum ? You know
who these two idiots are ; you know who we are —
a Lord of Appeal, a Viscount of the English
peerage, and me — me knowing all I know, which
the men who know dam' well know that I do
know ! It's our necks or Armageddon. Which
do you think this Government would choose ?
We cant be tried ! " he says.
* " Then I expect I'll have to resign me club,"
Lundie goes on. " I don't think that's ever been
done before by an ex-officio member. I must ask
the secretary." I guess he was kinder bunkered
for the minute, or maybe 'twas the lordship
comin' out on him.
' " Rot ! " says Mankeltow. " Walen's right.
We can't afford to be tried. We'll have to bury
294 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
them ; but my head-gardener locks up all the tools
at five o'clock."
' " Not on your life ! " says Lundie. He was
on deck again — as the high-class lawyer. " Right
or wrong, if we attempt concealment of the bodies
we're done for."
' " I'm glad of that," says Mankeltow, " because,
after all, it ain't cricket to bury 'em."
* Somehow — but I know I ain't English — that
consideration didn't worry me as it ought. An'
besides, I was thinkin' — I had to — an' I'd begun
to see a light 'way off — a little glimmerin' light
o' salvation.
* " Then what are we to do ? " says Walen.
" Zigler, what do you advise ? Your neck's in it
too."
' " Gentlemen," I says, " something Lord
Lundie let fall a while back gives me an idea. I
move that this committee empowers Big Claus
and Little Claus, who have elected to commit
suicide in our midst, to leave the premises as they
came. I'm asking you to take big chances," I
says, " but they're all we've got," and then I
broke for the bi-plane.
' Don't tell me the English can't think as quick
as the next man when it's up to them ! They
lifted 'em out o' Flora's Temple — reverent, but
not wastin' time — whilst I found out what had
brought her down. One cylinder was misfirin'.
I didn't stop to fix it. My Renzalaer will hold
up on six. We've proved that. If her crew had
relied on my guarantees, they'd have been half-
way home by then, instead of takin' their seats
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 295
with hangin' heads like they was ashamed. They
ought to have been ashamed too, playin' gun-men
in a British peer's park ! I took big chances
startin' her without controls, but 'twas a dead still
night an' a clear run — you saw it — across the
Theatre into the park, and I prayed she'd rise
before she hit high timber. I set her all I dared
for a quick lift. I told Mankeltow that if I gave
her too much nose she'd be liable to up-end and
flop. He didn't want another inquest on his
estate. No, sir ! So I had to fix her up in the
dark. Ya-as !
* I took big chances, too, while those other three
held on to her and I worked her up to full power.
My Renzalaer's no ventilation-fan to pull against.
But I climbed out just in time. I'd hitched the
signallin' lamp to her tail so's we could track her.
Otherwise, with my Rush Silencer, we might's
well have shooed an owl out of a barn. She left
just that way when we let her go. No sound
except the propellers — Whoo-oo-ool Whoo-oo-ool
There was a dip in the ground ahead. It hid her
lamp for a second — but there's no such thing as
time in real life. Then that lamp travelled up
the far slope slow — too slow. Then it kinder
lifted, we judged. Then it sure was liftin'.
Then it lifted good. D'you know why ? Our
four naked perspirin' souls was out there under-
neath her, hikin' her heavens high. Yes, sir.
We did it ! . . . And that lamp kept liftin' and
liftin'. Then she side-slipped ! My God, she
side-slipped twice, which was what I'd been afraid
of all along ! Then she straightened up, and
296 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
went away climbin' to glory, for that blessed
star of our hope got smaller and smaller till we
couldn't track it any more. Then we breathed.
We hadn't breathed any since their arrival, but
we didn't know it till we breathed that time
— all together. Then we dug our finger-nails
out of our palms an' came alive again — in instal-
ments.
' Lundie spoke first. " We therefore commit
their bodies to the air," he says, an' puts his cap
on.
' " The deep — the deep," says Walen. " It's
just twenty-three miles to the Channel."
' " Poor chaps ! Poor chaps ! " says Mankeltow.
" We'd have had 'em to dinner if they hadn't lost
their heads. I can't tell you how this distresses
me, Laughton."
"'Well, look at here, Arthur," I says. "It's
only God's Own Mercy you an' me ain't lyin'
in Flora's Temple now, and if that fat man had
known enough to fetch his gun around while he
was runnin', Lord Lundie and Walen would have
been alongside us."
' " I see that," he says. " But we're alive and
they're dead, don't ye know."
' " I know it," I says. " That's where the
dead are always so damned unfair on the sur-
vivors."
' " I see that too," he says. " But I'd have
given a good deal if it hadn't happened, poor
chaps ! "
' " Amen ! " says Lundie. Then ? Oh, then
we sorter walked back two an' two to Flora's
THE EDGE OF THE EVENING 297
Temple an' lit matches to see we hadn't left any-
thing behind. Walen, he had confiscated the
note-books before they left. There was the first
man's pistol, which we'd forgot to return him,
lyin' on the stone bench. Mankeltow puts his
hand on it — he never touched the trigger — an',
bein' an automatic, of course the blame thing
jarred off — spiteful as a rattler !
* " Look out ! They'll have one of us yet,"
says Walen in the dark. But they didn't — the
Lord hadn't quit being our shepherd — and we
heard the bullet zip across the veldt — quite like
old times. Ya-as !
* " Swine ! " says Mankeltow.
* After that I didn't hear any more " Poor
chap " talk. . . . Me ? I never worried about
killing my man. I was too busy figurin' how
a British jury might regard the proposition. I
guess Lundie felt that way too.
1 Oh, but say ! We had an interestin' time at
dinner. Folks was expected whose auto had
hung up on the road. They hadn't wired, and
Peters had laid two extra places. We noticed 'em
as soon as we sat down. I'd hate to say how
noticeable they were. Mankeltow with his neck
bandaged (he'd caught a relaxed throat golfin')
sent for Peters and told him to take those
empty places away — if you -please. It takes
something to rattle Peters. He was rattled
that time. Nobody else noticed anything. And
now . . .'
1 Where did they come down ? ' I asked, as
he rose.
298 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
1 In the Channel, I guess. There was nothing
in the papers about 'em. Shall we go into the
drawin'-room, and see what these boys and girls
are doin' ? But say, ain't life in England
intemtin' ? '
REBIRTH
If any God should say
" 1 will restore
The world her yesterday
Whole as before
My Judgment blasted it " — who would not lift
Heart, eye, and hand in passion o'er the gift ?
If any God should will
To wipe from mind
The memory of this ill
Which is mankind
In soul and substance now — who would not bless
Even to tears His loving-tenderness ?
If any God should give
Us leave to fly
These present deaths we live,
And safely die
In those lost lives we lived ere we were born —
What man but would not laugh the excuse to
scorn ?
299
300 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
For we are what we are —
So broke to blood
And the strict works of war —
So long subdued
To sacrifice, that threadbare Death commands
Hardly observance at our busier hands.
Yet we were what we were,
And, fashioned so,
It pleases us to stare
At the far show
Of unbelievable years and shapes that flit,
In our own likeness, on the edge of it.
The Horse Marines
(1911)
The Rt. Hon. R. B. Haldane, Secretary of State
for War,1 was questioned in the House of Commons
on April Zth about the rocking-horses which the War
Office is using for the purpose of teaching recruits to
ride. Lord Ronaldshay asked the War Secretary if
rocking-horses were to be supplied to all the cavalry
regiments for teaching recruits to ride. t The noble
Lord' replied Mr. Haldane , ' is doubtless alluding
to certain dummy horses on rockers which have been
tested with very satisfactory results.'' . . . The
mechanical steed is a wooden horse with an astonish-
ing tail. It is painted brown and mounted on swing-
ing rails. The recruit leaps into the saddle and
pulls at the reins while the riding-instructor rocks the
animal to and fro with his foot. The rocking-horses
are being made at Woolwich. They are quite cheap.
Daily Paper.
My instructions to Mr. Leggatt, my engineer,
had been accurately obeyed. He was to bring
1 Now Viscount Haldane of Cloan.
301
302 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
my car on completion of annual overhaul, from
Coventry via London, to Southampton Docks to
await my arrival ; and very pretty she looked,
under the steamer's side among the railway lines,
at six in the morning. Next to her new paint and
varnish I was most impressed by her four brand-
new tyres.
1 But I didn't order new tyres,' I said as we
moved away. ' These are lrresilients, too.'
1 Treble-ribbed,' said Leggatt. ' Diamond-stud
sheathing.'
' Then there has been a mistake.'
' Oh no, sir ; they're gratis.'
The number of motor manufacturers who give
away complete sets of treble-ribbed Irresilient tyres
is so limited that I believe I asked Leggratt for an
explanation.
' I don't know that I could very well explain,
sir,' was the answer. ' It 'ud come better from
Mr. Pyecroft. He's on leaf at Portsmouth —
staying with his uncle. His uncle 'ad the body
all night. I'd defy you to find a scratch on her
even with a microscope.'
i Then we will go home by the Portsmouth
road,' I said.
And we went at those speeds which are allowed
before the working-day begins or the police are
thawed out. We were blocked near Portsmouth
by a battalion of Regulars on the move.
' Whitsuntide manoeuvres just ending,' said
Leggatt. 'They've had a fortnight in the
Downs.'
He said no more until we were in a narrow
THE HORSE MARINES 303
street somewhere behind Portsmouth Town Rail-
way Station, where he slowed at a green-grocery
shop. The door was open, and a small old man
sat on three potato-baskets swinging his feet over
a stooping blue back.
' You call that shinin' 'em ? ' he piped. ' Can
you see your face in 'em yet ? No ! Then
shine 'em, or I'll give you a beltin' you'll re-
member ! '
' If you stop kickin' me in the mouth perhaps
I'd do better,' said Pyecroft's voice meekly.
We blew the horn.
Pyecroft arose, put away the brushes, and
received us not otherwise than as a king in his
own country.
' Are you going to leave me up here all day ? '
said the old man.
Pyecroft lifted him down and he hobbled into
the back room.
' It's his corns,' Pyecroft explained. ' You
can't shine corny feet — and he hasn't had his
breakfast.'
' 1 haven't had mine either,' I said.
' Breakfast for two more, uncle,' Pyecroft sang
out.
1 Go out an' buy it then,' was the answer, ' or
else it's half-rations.'
Pyecroft turned to Leggatt, gave him his
marketing orders, and despatched him with the
coppers.
* I have got four new tyres on my car,' I began
impressively.
' Yes,' said Mr. Pyecroft. ' You have, and I
304 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
will say' — he patted my car's bonnet — 'you
earned 'em.'
' I want to know why ,' I went on.
' Quite justifiable. You haven't noticed any-
thing in the papers, have you ? '
' I've only just landed. I haven't seen a paper
for weeks.'
' Then you can lend me a virgin ear. There's
been a scandal in the Junior Service — the Army,
I believe they call 'em.'
A bag of coffee-beans pitched on the counter.
' Roast that,' said the uncle from within.
Pyecroft rigged a small coffee-roaster, while I
took down the shutters, and sold a young lady in
curl-papers two bunches of mixed greens and one
soft orange.
' Sickly stuff to handle on an empty stomach,
ain't it? ' said Pyecroft.
' What about my new tyres ? ' I insisted.
' Oh, any amount. But the question is ' — he
looked at me steadily — ' is this what you might
call a court-martial or a post-mortem inquiry ? '
* Strictly a post-mortem,' said I.
' That being so,' said Pyecroft, * we can rapidly
arrive at facts. Last Thursday — the shutters .go
behind those baskets — last Thursday at five bells
in the forenoon watch, otherwise ten-thirty a.m.,
your Mr. Leggatt was discovered on Westminster
Bridge laying his course for the Old Kent Road.'
' But that doesn't lead to Southampton,' I
interrupted.
' Then perhaps he was swinging the car for
compasses. Be that as it may, we found him in
THE HORSE MARINES 305
that latitude, simultaneous as Jules and me was
ong route for Waterloo to rejoin our respective
ships — or Navies I should say. Jules was a per-
missionaire, which meant being on leaf, same as me,
from a French cassowary-cruiser at Portsmouth.
A party of her trusty and well-beloved petty officers
'ad been seeing London, chaperoned by the R.C
chaplain. Jules 'ad detached himself from the
squadron and was cruisin' on his own when I joined
him, in company of copious lady-friends. But,
mark you, your Mr. Leggatt drew the line at the
girls. Loud and long he drew it.'
* I'm glad of that,' I said.
' You may be. He adopted the puristical
formation from the first. " Yes," he said, when
we was annealing him at — but you wouldn't know
the pub — " I am going to Southampton," he says,
"and I'll stretch a point to go via Portsmouth :
but" says he, " seeing what sort of one hell of a
time invariably trarnspires when we cruise together,
Mr. Pyecroft, I do not feel myself justified towards
my generous and long-suffering employer in takin'
on that kind of ballast as well." 1 assure you he
considered your interests.'
* And the girls ? ' I asked.
' Oh, I left that to Jules. I'm a monogomite
by nature. So we embarked strictly ong garfong.
But I should tell you, in case he didn't, that your
Mr. Leggatt's care for your interests 'ad.extended
to sheathing the car in matting and gunny-bags to
preserve her paint-work. She was all swathed up
like an I-talian baby.'
' He is careful about his paint-work,' I said.
x
306 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* For a man with no Service experience I should
say he was fair homicidal on the subject. If we'd
been Marines he couldn't have been more pointed
in his allusions to our hob-nailed socks. However,
we reduced him to a malleable condition, and
embarked for Portsmouth. I'd seldom rejoined my
vaisseau ong automobile, avec a fur coat and goggles.
Nor 'ad Jules.'
* Did Jules say much ? ' I asked, helplessly
turning the handle of the coffee-roaster.
* That's where I pitied the pore beggar. He
'adn't the language, so to speak. He was confined
to heavings and shruggin's and copious Mong Jews !
The French are very badly fitted with relief-valves.
And then our Mr. Leggatt drove. He drove.'
* Was he in a very malleable condition ? '
' Not him ! We recognised the value of his
cargo from the outset. He hadn't a chance to get
more than moist at the edges. After which we
went to sleep ; and now we'll go to breakfast.'
We entered the back room where everything
was in order, and a screeching canary made us
welcome. The uncle had added sausages and piles
of buttered toast to the kippers. The coffee,
cleared with a piece of fish-skin, was a revelation.
Leggatt, who seemed to know the premises,' had
run the car into the tiny backyard where her
mirror-like back almost blocked up the windows.
He minded shop while we ate. Pyecroft passed him
his rations through a flap in the door. The uncle
ordered him in, after breakfast, to wash up, and he
jumped in his gaiters at the old man's commands
as he has never jumped to mine.
THE HORSE MARINES 307
1 To resoom the post-mortem,' said Pyecroft,
lighting his pipe. ' My slumbers were broken
by the propeller ceasing to revolve, and by vile
language from your Mr. Leggatt.'
'I — I ' Leggatt began, a blue-checked
duster in one hand and a cup in the other.
* When you're wanted aft you'll be sent for,
Mr. Leggatt,' said Pyecroft amiably. ' It's clean
mess decks for you now. Resooming once more,
we was on a lonely and desolate ocean near Ports-
down, surrounded by gorse bushes, and a Boy
Scout was stirring my stomach with his little
copper-stick.'
1 " You count ten," he says.
'"Very good, Boy Jones," I says, "count
'em," and I hauled him in over the gunnel, and
ten I gave him with my large flat hand. The
remarks he passed, lying face down tryin' to bite
my leg, would have reflected credit on any Service.
Having finished 1 dropped him overboard again,
which was my gross political error. I ought to
'ave killed him ; because he began signalling — rapid
and accurate — in a sou' westerly direction. Few
equatorial calms are to be apprehended when B.P.'s
little pets take to signallin'. Make a note o' that !
Three minutes later we were stopped and boarded
by Scouts — up our backs, down our necks, and in
our boots ! The last I heard from your Mr.
Leggatt as he went under, brushin' 'em off his
cap, was thanking Heaven he'd covered up the
new paint-work with mats. An 'eroic soul ! '
' Not a scratch on her body,' said Leggatt,
pouring out the coffee-grounds.
308 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' And Jules ? ' said I.
' Oh, Jules thought the much advertised Social
Revolution had begun, but his mackintosh ham-
pered him.'
' You told me to bring the mackintosh,' Leggatt
whispered to me.
' And when I 'ad 'em half convinced he was a
French vicomte coming down to visit the Com-
mander-in-Chief at Portsmouth, he tried to take
it off. Seeing his uniform underneath, some
sucking Sherlock Holmes of the Pink Eye Patrol
(they called him Eddy) deduced that I wasn't
speaking the truth. Eddy said I was tryin' to
sneak into Portsmouth unobserved — unobserved
mark you ! — and join hands with the enemy. It
trarnspired that the Scouts was conducting a field-
day against opposin' forces, ably assisted by all
branches of the Service, and they was so afraid
the car wouldn't count ten points to them in the
fray, that they'd have scalped us, but for the inter-
vention of an umpire — also in short under-drawers.
A fleshy sight ! '
Here Mr. Pyecroft shut his eyes and nodded.
' That umpire,' he said suddenly, ' was our Mr.
Morshed — a gentleman whose acquaintance - you
have already made and profited by, if I mistake
not.'1
' Oh, was the Navy in it too ? ' I said ; for I
had read of wild doings occasionally among the
Boy Scouts on the Portsmouth Road, in which
Navy, Army, and the world at large seemed to
have taken part.
1 ' Their Lawful Occasions,' Traffics and Discoveries.
THE HORSE MARINES 309
' The Navy was in it. I was the only one
out of it — for several seconds. Our Mr. Morshed
failed to recognise me in my fur boa, and my
appealin' winks at 'im behind your goggles didn't
arrive. But when Eddy darling had told his
story, I saluted, which is difficult in furs, and I
stated I was bringin' him dispatches from the
North. My Mr. Morshed cohered on the instant.
I've never known his ethergram installations out
of order yet. " Go and guard your blessed road,"
he says to the Fratton Orphan Asylum standing
at attention all round him, and, when they was
removed — " Pyecroft," he says, still sotte voce,
" what in Hong-Kong are you doing with this
dun-coloured sampan ? "
' It was your Mr. Leggatt's paint-protective
matting which caught his eye. She did resemble
a samp an^ especially about the stern-works. At
these remarks I naturally threw myself on 'is
bosom, so far as Service conditions permitted, and
revealed him all, mentioning that the car was
yours. You know his way of working his lips
like a rabbit ? Yes, he was quite pleased. " His
car ! " he kept murmuring, working his lips like
a rabbit. " I owe 'im more than a trifle for
things he wrote about me. I'll keep the car."
* Your Mr. Leggatt now injected some semi-
mutinous remarks to the effect that he was your
chauffeur in charge of your car, and, as such,
capable of so acting. Mr. Morshed threw him
a glarnce. It sufficed. Didn't it suffice, Mr.
Leggatt ? '
' I knew if something didn't happen, something
310 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
worse would,' said Leggatt. ' It never fails when
you're aboard.'
* And Jules ? ' I demanded.
'Jules was, so to speak, panicking in a water-
tight flat through his unfortunate lack of language.
I had to introduce him as part of the entente
cordiale, and he was put under arrest, too. Then
we sat on the grass and smoked, while Eddy and
Co. violently annoyed the traffic on the Ports-
mouth Road, till the umpires, all in short panties,
conferred on the valuable lessons of the field-day
and added up points, same as at target-practice.
I didn't hear their conclusions, but our Mr.
Morshed delivered a farewell address to Eddy
and Co., tellin' 'em they ought to have deduced
from a hundred signs about me, that I was a
friendly bringin' in dispatches from the North.
We left 'em tryin' to find those signs in the Scout
book, and we reached Mr. Morshed's hotel at
Portsmouth at 6.27 p.m. ong automobile. Here
endeth the first chapter.'
' Begin the second,' I said.
The uncle and Leggatt had finished washing
up and were seated, smoking, while the damp
duster dried at the fire.
' About what time was it,' said Pyecroft to
Leggatt, ' when our Mr. Morshed began to talk
about uncles? '
* When he came back to the bar, after he'd
changed into those rat - catcher clothes,' said
Leggatt.
* That's right. " Pye," said he, " have you
an uncle ? " " I have," I says. " Here's santy to
THE HORSE MARINES 311
him," and I finished my sherry and bitters to you,
uncle.'
' That's right,' said Pyecroft's uncle sternly.
1 If you hadn't I'd have belted you worth
rememberin', Emmanuel. I had the body all
night.'
Pyecroft smiled affectionately. ' So you 'ad,
uncle,' an' beautifully you looked after her. But
as I was saying, " I have an uncle, too," says Mr.
Morshed, dark and lowering. " Yet somehow I
can't love him. I want to mortify the beggar.
Volunteers to mortify my uncle, one pace to the
front."
' I took Jules with me the regulation distance.
Jules was getting interested. Your Mr. Leggatt
preserved a strictly nootral attitude.
* " You're a pressed man," says our Mr.
Morshed. " I owe your late employer much, so to
say. The car will manoeuvre all night, as requisite."
c Mr. Leggatt come out noble as your employee,
and, by 'Eaven's divine grace, instead of arguing,
he pleaded his new paint and varnish which was
Mr. Morshed's one vital spot (he's lootenant on
one of the new catch-'em-alive-o's now). " True,"
says he, " paint's an 'oly thing. I'll give you one
hour to arrange a modus Vivendi. Full bunkers
and steam ready by 9 p.m. to-night, if you please."
' Even so, Mr. Leggatt was far from content.
/ 'ad to arrange the details. We run her into the
yard here.' Pyecroft nodded through the window
at my car's glossy back-panels. s We took off
the body with its mats and put it in the stable,
substitooting (and that yard's a tight fit for
3i2 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
extensive repairs) the body of uncle's blue delivery
cart. It overhung a trifle, but after I'd lashed it
I knew it wouldn't fetch loose. Thus, in our
composite cruiser, we repaired once more to the
hotel, and was immediately dispatched to the toy-
shop in the High Street where we took aboard
one rocking-horse which was waiting for us.'
' Took aboard what ? ' I cried.
' One fourteen-hand dapple-grey rocking-horse,
with pure green rockers and detachable tail, pair
gashly glass eyes, complete set 'orrible grinnin'
teeth, and two bloody -red nostrils which, pro-
truding from the brown papers, produced the tout
ensemble of a Ju-ju sacrifice in the Benin campaign.
Do I make myself comprehensible ? '
' Perfectly. Did you say anything? ' I asked.
' Only to Jules. To him, I says, wishing to
try him, " Allez a votre bateau. Je say mon
Lootenong. Eel voo donneray porkwor." To me,
says he, " Vous ong ate hurroo ! Jamay de la vee ! "
and I saw by his eye he'd taken on for the full
term of the war. Jules was a blue-eyed, brindle-
haired beggar of a useful make and inquirin'
habits. Your Mr. Leggat he only groaned.'
Leggatt nodded. 'It was like nightmares,' he
said. ' It was like nightmares.'
' Once more, then,' Pyecroft swept on, ' we
returned to the hotel and partook of a sumptuous
repast, under the able and genial chairmanship of
our Mr. Morshed, who kid his projecks un-
reservedly before us. " In the first place," he says,
opening out bicycle -maps, "my uncle, who, I
regret to say, is a brigadier-general, has sold his
THE HORSE MARINES 313
alleged soul to Dicky Bridoon for a feathery hat
and a pair o' gilt spurs. Jules, conspuez Vonclel "
So Jules, you'll be glad to hear '
' One minute, Pye,' I said. ' Who is Dicky
Bridoon ? '
' 1 don't usually mingle myself up with the
bickerings of the Junior Service, but it trarnspired
that he was Secretary o' State for Civil War, an'
he'd been issuing mechanical leather-belly gee-
gees which doctors recommend for tumour — to
the British cavalry in loo of real meat horses, to
learn to ride on. Don't you remember there was
quite a stir in the papers owing to the cavalry
not appreciatin' 'em ? But that's a minor item.
The main point was that our uncle, in his capacity
of brigadier-general, mark you, had wrote to the
papers highly approvin' o' Dicky Bridoon's
mechanical substitutes an 'ad thus obtained pro-
motion— all same as a agnosticle stoker psalm-
singin' 'imself up the Service under a pious captain.
At that point of the narrative we caught a
phosphorescent glimmer why the rocking-horse
might have been issued ; but none the less the
navigation was intricate. Omitting the fact it
was dark and cloudy, our brigadier-uncle lay
somewhere in the South Downs with his brigade,
which was manceuvrin' at Whitsun manoeuvres on
a large scale — Red Army versus Blue, et cetera ;
an' all we 'ad to go by was those flapping bicycle-
maps and your Mr. Leggatt's groans.'
{I was thinking what the Downs mean after
dark,' said Leggatt angrily.
'They was worth thinkin' of,' said Pyecroft.
314 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' When we had studied the map till it fair spun,
we decided to sally forth and creep for uncle by
hand in the dark, dark night, an' present 'im with
the rocking-horse. So we embarked at 8.57 p.m.'
* One minute again, please. How much did
Jules understand by that time ? ' I asked.
Sufficient unto the day — or night, perhaps
I should say. He told our Mr. Morshed he'd
follow him more sang frays, which is French for
dead, drunk or damned. Barrin' 'is paucity o'
language, there wasn't a blemish on Jules. But
what I wished to imply was, when we climbed into
the back parts of the car, our Lootenant Morshed
says to me, " I doubt if I'd flick my cigar-ends
about too lavish, Mr. Pyecroft. We ought to be
sitting on five pounds' worth of selected fireworks,
and I think the rockets are your end." Not being
able to smoke with my 'ead over the side I threw
it away ; and then your Mr. Leggatt, 'aving been
as nearly mutinous as it pays to be with my Mr.
Morshed, arched his back and drove.'
* Where did he drive to, please ? ' said I.
* Primerrily, in search of any or either or both
armies ; seconderrily, of course, in search of our
brigadier-uncle. Not finding him on the road, we
ran about the grass looking for him. This took
us to a great many places in a short time. 'Ow
'eavenly that lilac did smell on top of that first
Down — stinkin' its blossomin' little heart out ! '
* I 'adn't leesure to notice,' said Mr. Leggatt.
' The Downs were full o' chalk-pits, and we'd no
lights.'
'We 'ad the bicycle-lamp to look at the map
THE HORSE MARINES 315
by. Didn't you notice the old lady at the window-
where we saw the man in the night-gown ? I
thought night-gowns as sleepin' rig was extinck, so
to speak.'
1 1 tell you I 'adn't leesure to notice,' Leggatt
repeated.
1 That's odd. Then what might 'ave made
you tell the sentry at the first camp we found that
you was the Daily Express delivery-waggon ? '
* You can't touch pitch without being defiled,'
Leggatt answered. ' 'Oo told the officer in the
bath we were umpires ? '
' Well, he asked us. That was when we found
the Territorial battalion undressin' in slow time.
It lay on the left flank o' the Blue Army, and it
cackled as it lay, too. But it gave us our position
as regards the respective armies. We wandered a
little more, and at 1 1.7 p.m., not having had a road
under us for twenty minutes, we scaled the heights
of something or other — which are about six hundred
feet high. Here we 'alted to tighten the lashings
of the superstructure, and we smelt leather and
horses three counties deep all round. We was,
as you might say, in the thick of it.'
' " Ah ! " says my Mr. Morshed. " My 'orizon
has indeed broadened. What a little thing is an
uncle, Mr. Pyecroft, in the presence o' these
glitterin' constellations ! Simply ludicrous ! " he
says, " to waste a rocking-horse on an individual.
We must socialise it. But we must get their 'eads
up first. Touch off" one rocket, if you please."
' I touched off" a green three-pounder which
rose several thousand metres, and burst into
3i6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
gorgeous stars. 'c Reproduce the manceuvre,"
he says, " at the other end o' this ridge — if it
don't end in another cliff." So we steamed down
the ridge a mile and a half east, and then I let Jules
touch off a pink rocket, or he'd ha' kissed me.
That was his only way to express his emotions,
so to speak. Their heads come up then all around
us to the extent o' thousands. We hears bugles
like cocks crowing below, and on the top
of it a most impressive sound which I'd never
enjoyed before because 'itherto I'd always been an
inteegral part of it, so to say — the noise of 'ole
armies gettin' under arms. They must 'ave
anticipated a night attack, I imagine. Most
impressive. Then we 'eard a threshin'-machine.
"Tutt ! Tutt ! This is childish ! " says
Lootenant Morshed. " We can't wait till they've
finished cutting chaff for their horses. We must
make 'em understand we're not to be trifled with.
Expedite 'em with another rocket, Mr. Pyecroft."
' " It's barely possible, sir," I remarks, " that
that's a searchlight churnin' up," and by the
time we backed into a providential chalk cutting
(which was where our first tyre went pungo)
she broke out to the northward, and began
searching the ridge. A smart bit o' work.'
1 'Twasn't a puncture. The inner tube had
nipped because we skidded so,' Leggatt inter-
rupted.
' While your Mr. Leggatt was effectin' repairs,
another searchlight broke out to the southward,
and the two of 'em swept our ridge on both
sides. Right at the west end of it they showed
THE HORSE MARINES 317
us the ground rising into a hill, so to speak,
crowned with what looked like a little fort.
Morshed saw it before the beams shut off.
" That's the key of the position ! " he says.
" Occupy it at all hazards."
1 " I haven't half got occupation for the next
twenty minutes," says your Mr. Leggatt, rootin'
and blasphemin' in the dark. Mark, now, 'ow
Morshed changed his tactics to suit 'is environ-
ment. " Right ! " says he. " I'll stand by the
ship. Mr. Pyecroft and Jules, oblige me by
doubling along the ridge to the east with all the
maroons and crackers you can carry without spill-
ing. Read the directions careful for the maroons,
Mr. Pyecroft, and touch them off at half-minute
intervals. Jules represents musketry an' maxim
fire under your command. Remember, it's death
or Salisbury Gaol ! Prob'ly both ! "
' By these means and some moderately 'ard
runnin', we distracted 'em to the eastward.
Maroons, you may not be aware, are same as
bombs, with the anarchism left out. In confined
spots like chalk-pits, they knock a four-point-
seven silly. But you should read the directions
before'and. In the intervals of the slow but well-
directed fire of my cow-guns, Jules, who had
found a sheep-pond in the dark a little lower
down, gave what you might call a cinematograph
reproduction o' sporadic musketry. They was
large size crackers, and he concluded with the
dull, sickenin' thud o' blind shells burstin' on
soft ground.'
' How did he manage that ? ' I said.
318 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* You throw a lighted squib into water and
you'll see,' said Pyecroft. ' Thus, then, we
improvised till supplies was exhausted and the
surrounding landscapes fair 'owled and 'ummed
at us. The Junior Service might 'ave 'ad their
doubts about the rockets, but they couldn't over-
look our gunfire. Both sides tumbled out full
of initiative. I told Jules no two flat-feet 'ad
any right to be as happy as us, and we went back
along the ridge to the derelict, and there was our
Mr. Morshed apostrophin' his 'andiwork over fifty
square mile o' country with "Attend, all ye who
list to hear ! " out of the Fifth Reader. He'd got
as far as " And roused the shepherds o' Stone-
henge, the rangers o' Beaulieu " when we come
up, and he drew our attention to its truth as well
as its beauty. That's rare, in poetry, I'm told.
He went right on to — " The red glare on Skiddaw
roused those beggars at Carlisle" — which he
pointed out was poetic licence for Leith Hill.
This allowed your Mr. Leggatt time to finish
pumpin' up his tyres. I 'eard the sweat 'op off
his nose.'
' You know what it is, sir,' said poor Leggatt
to me.
' It warfted across my mind, as I listened to
what was trarnspirin', that it might be easier to
make the mess than to wipe it up, but such
considerations weighed not with our valiant
leader.'
' " Mr. Pyecroft," he says, " it can't have
escaped your notice that we 'ave one angry and
'ighly intelligent army in front of us, an' another
THE HORSE MARINES 319
'ighly angry and equally intelligent army in our
rear. What 'ud you recommend ? "
' Most men would have besought 'im to do a
lateral glide while there was yet time, but all I
said was : " The rocking-horse isn't expended
yet, sir."
* He laid his hand on my shoulder. " Pye,"
says he, " there's worse men than you in loftier
places. They shall 'ave it. None the Jess," he
remarks, " the ice is undeniably packing."
1 1 may 'ave omitted to point out that at this
juncture two large armies, both deprived of their
night's sleep, was awake, as you might say, and
hurryin' into each other's arms. Here endeth the
second chapter.'
He filled his pipe slowly. The uncle had
fallen asleep. Leggatt lit another cigarette.
* We then proceeded ong automobile along the
ridge in a westerly direction towards the miniature
fort which had been so kindly revealed by the
searchlight, but which on inspection (your Mr.
Leggatt bumped into an outlyin' reef of it) proved
to be a wurzel-clump ; c est-h-dire, a parallelo-
grammatic pile of about three million mangold-
wurzels, brought up there for the sheep, I suppose.
On all sides, excep' the one we'd come by, the
ground fell away moderately quick, and down at
the bottom there was a large camp lit up an' full
of harsh words of command.
i " I said it was the key to the position,"
Lootenant Morshed remarks. " Trot out Per-
simmon ! " which we rightly took to read,
" Un-wrap the rocking-horse."
320 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' " Houp la ! " says Jules in a insubordinate
tone, an' slaps Persimmon on the flank.
' " Silence ! " says the Lootenant. " This is the
Royal Navy, not Newmarket " ; and we carried
Persimmon to the top of the mangel-wurzel
clump as directed.
* Owing to the inequalities of the terrain (I do
think your Mr. Leggatt might have had a spirit-
level in his kit) he wouldn't rock free on the bed-
plate, and while adjustin' hirn, his detachable tail
fetched adrift. Our Lootenant was quick to seize
the advantage.
' " Remove that transformation," he says.
li Substitute one Roman candle. Gas-power is
superior to manual propulsion."
* So we substituted. He arranged the piece
de resistarnce in the shape of large drums —
not saucers, mark you — drums of coloured fire,
with printed instructions, at proper distances
round Persimmon. There was a brief inter-
regnum while we dug ourselves in among the
wurzels by hand. Then he touched off the
fires, not omitting the Roman candle, and, you
may take it from me, all was visible. Per-
simmon shone out in his naked splendour,
red to port, green to starboard, and one white
light at his bows, as per Board o' Trade
regulations. Only he didn't so much rock, you
might say, as shrug himself, in a manner of
speaking, every time the candle went off. One
can't have everything. But the rest surpassed
our highest expectations. I think Persimmon was
noblest on the starboard or green side — more like
THE HORSE MARINES 321
when a man thinks he's seeing mackerel in hell,
don't you know ? And yet I'd be the last to
deprecate the effect of the port light on his teeth,
or that bloodshot look in his left eye. He knew
there was something going on he didn't approve
of. He looked worried.'
* Did you laugh ? ' I said.
* I'm not much of a wag myself ; nor it wasn't
as if we 'ad time to allow the spectacle to sink in.
The coloured fires was supposed to burn ten
minutes, whereas it was obvious to the meanest
capacity that the Junior Service would arrive by
forced marches in about two and a half. They
grarsped our topical allusion as soon as it was
across the foot-lights, so to speak. They were
quite chafed at it. Of course, 'ad we reflected, we
might have known that exposin' illuminated
rockin' horses to an army that was learnin' to ride
on 'em partook of the nature of a double entender,
as the French say — same as waggling the tiller
lines at a man who's had a hanging in the family.
I knew the cox of the Archimandrite s galley 'arf
killed for a similar plaisanteree. But we never
anticipated lobsters being so sensitive. That was
why we shifted. We could 'ardly tear our
commandin' officer away. He put his head on
one side, and kept cooin'. The only thing he 'ad
neglected to provide was a line of retreat ; but
your Mr. Leggatt — an 'eroic soul in the last stage
of wet prostration — here took command of the
van, or, rather, the rear-guard. We walked down-
hill beside him, holding on to the superstructure
to prevent her capsizing. These technical details,
322 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
'owever, are beyond me.' He waved his pipe
towards Leggatt.
* I saw there was two deepish ruts leadin'
down'ill somewhere,' said Leggatt. ' That was
when the soldiers stopped laughin', and begun to
run uphill.'
* Stroll, lovey, stroll ! ' Pyecroft corrected. * The
Dervish rush took place later.'
* So I laid her in these ruts. That was where
she must 'ave scraped her silencer a bit. Then they
turned sharp right — the ruts did — and then she
stopped bonnet-high in a manure-heap, sir ; but I'll
swear it was all of a one in three gradient. I think
it was a barnyard. We waited there,' said Leggatt.
* But not for long,' said Pyecroft. * The lights
were towering out of the drums on the position
we 'ad so valiantly abandoned ; and the Junior
Service was escaladin' it en masse. When numerous
bodies of 'ighly trained men arrive simultaneous
in the same latitude from opposite directions, each
remarking briskly, " What the 'ell did you do
that for ? " detonation, as you might say, is
practically assured. They didn't ask for ex-
traneous aids. If we'd come out with sworn
affidavits of what we'd done they wouldn't 'ave
believed us. They wanted each other's company
exclusive. Such was the effect of Persimmon on
their clarss feelings. Idol' try, / call it ! Events
transpired with the utmost velocity and rapidly
increasing pressures. There was a few remarks
about Dicky Bridoon and mechanical horses, and
then some one was smacked — hard by the sound —
in the middle of a remark.'
THE HORSE MARINES 323
' That was the man who kept calling for the
Forty-fifth Dragoons,' said Leggatt. ' He got as
far as Drag . . . '
* Was it?' said Pyecroft dreamily. <Well, he
couldn't say they didn't come. They all came,
and they all fell to arguin' whether the Infantry
should 'ave Persimmon for a regimental pet or
the Cavalry should keep him for stud purposes.
Hence the issue was soon clouded with mangold-
wurzels. Our commander said we 'ad sowed the
good seed, and it was bearing abundant fruit.
(They weigh between four and seven pounds
apiece.) Seein' the children 'ad got over their
shyness, and 'ad really begun to play games, we
backed out o' the pit and went down, by steps, to
the camp below, no man, as you might say,
making us afraid. Here we enjoyed a front view
of the battle, which rolled with renewed impetus,
owing to both sides receiving strong reinforce-
ments every minute. All arms were freely re-
presented ; Cavalry, on this occasion only, acting
in concert with Artillery. They argued the
relative merits of horses versus feet, so to say,
but they didn't neglect Persimmon. The wounded
rolling downhill with the wurzels informed us
that he had long ago been socialised, and the
smallest souvenirs were worth a man's life.
Speaking broadly, the Junior Service appeared to
be a shade out of 'and, if I may venture so far.
They did not pay prompt and unhesitating
obedience to the " Retires " or the " Cease
Fires " or the " For 'Eaven's sake come to bed,
ducky" of their officers, who, 1 regret to say,
324 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
were 'otly embroiled at the heads of their re-
spective units.'
1 How did you find that out ? ' I asked.
* On account of Lootenant Morshed going to
the Mess tent to call on his uncle and raise a
drink ; but all hands had gone to the front. We
thought we 'eard somebody bathing behind the
tent, and we found an oldish gentleman tryin' to
drown a boy in knickerbockers in a horse-trough.
He kept him under with a bicycle, so to speak.
He 'ad nearly accomplished his fell design, when
we frustrated him. He was in a highly malleable
condition and full o' juice de spree. " Arsk not
what I am," he says. " My wife '11 tell me that
quite soon enough. Arsk rather what I've been,"
he says. " I've been dinin' here," he says. " I
commanded 'em in the Eighties," he says, " and,
Gawd forgive me," he says, sobbin' 'eavily, " I've
spent this holy evening telling their Colonel they
was a set of educated inefficients. Hark to 'em ! "
We could, without strainin' ourselves ; but how
he picked up the gentle murmur of his own corps
in that on-the-knee party up the hill I don't know.
" They've marched and fought thirty mile to-
day," he shouts, " and now they're tearin' the.
intestines out of the Cavalry up yonder ! They
won't stop this side the gates o' Delhi," he says.
" I commanded their ancestors. There's nothing
wrong with the Service," he says, wringing out his
trousers on his iap. " 'Eaven pardon me for
doubtin' 'em ! Same old game — same young
beggars."
' The boy in the knickerbockers, languishing
THE HORSE MARINES 325
on a chair, puts in a claim for one drink. " Let
him go dry," says our friend in shirt-tails. " He's
a reporter. He run into me on his filthy bicycle
and he asked me if I could furnish 'im with
particulars about the mutiny in the Army. You
false-'earted proletarian publicist," he says, shakin'
his finger at 'im — for he was reelly annoyed —
" I'll teach you to defile what you can't compre-
hend ! When my regiment's in a state o' mutiny,
I'll do myself the honour of informing you
personally. You particularly ignorant and very
narsty little man," he says, " you're no better than
a dhobi's donkey ! If there wasn't dirty linen to
wash, you'd starve," he says, " and why I haven't
drowned you will be the lastin' regret of my life."
' Well, we sat with 'em and 'ad drinks for
about half-an-hour in front of the Mess tent.
He'd ha' killed the reporter if there hadn't been
witnesses, and the reporter might have taken notes
of the battle ; so we acted as two-way buffers, in
a sense. I don't hold with the Press mingling up
with Service matters. They draw false conclusions.
Now, mark you, at a moderate estimate, there were
seven thousand men in the fighting line, half of
'em hurt in their professional feelings, an' the
other half rubbin' in the liniment, as you might
say. All due to Persimmon ! If you 'adn't seen
it you wouldn't 'ave believed it. And yet, mark
you, not one single unit of 'em even resorted to
his belt. They confined themselves to natural
producks — hands and the wurzels. I thought
Jules was havin' fits, till it trarnspired the same
thought had impressed him in the French language.
326 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
He called it incroyable, I believe. Seven thousand
men, with seven thousand rifles, belts, and bayonets,
in a violently agitated condition, and not a un-
genteel blow struck from first to last. The old
gentleman drew our attention to it as well. It
was quite noticeable.
* Lack of ammunition was the primerry cause
of the battle ceasin'. A Brigade- Major came in,
wipin' his nose on both cuffs, and sayin' he 'ad 'ad
snuff. The brigadier-uncle followed. He was,
so to speak, sneezin'. We thought it best to
shift our moorings without attractin' attention ; so
we shifted. They 'ad called the cows 'ome by
then. The Junior Service was going to bye-bye
all round us, as happy as the ship's monkey when
he's been playin' with the paints, and Lootenant
Morshed and Jules kept bowin' to port and star-
board of the superstructure, acknowledgin' the
unstinted applause which the multitude would 'ave
given 'em if they'd known the facts. On the
other 'and, as your Mr. Leggatt observed, they
might 'ave killed us.
' That would have been about five bells in the
middle watch, say half-past two. A well-spent
evening. There was but little to be gained by
entering Portsmouth at that hour, so we turned
off on the grass (this was after we had found a road
under us), and we cast anchors out at the stern
and prayed for the day.
' But your Mr. Leggatt he had to make and
mend tyres all our watch below. It trarnspired
she had been running on the rim o' two or three
wheels, which, very properly, he hadn't reported
THE HORSE MARINES 327
till the close of the action. And that's the reason
of your four new tyres. Mr. Morshed was of
opinion you'd earned 'em. Do you dissent ? '
I stretched out my hand, which Pyecroft
crushed to pulp. * No, Pye,' I said, deeply moved,
' I agree entirely. But what happened to Jules ? '
* We returned him to his own Navy after break-
fast. He wouldn't have kept much longer without
some due in his own language to tell it to. I don't
know any man I ever took more compassion on
than Jules. 'Is sufferings swelled him up centi-
metres, and all he could do on the Hard was to
kiss Lootenant Morshed and me, and your Mr.
Leggatt. He deserved that much. A cordial
beggar.'
Pyecroft looked at the washed cups on the
table, and the low sunshine on my car's back in
the yard.
1 'Too early to drink to him,' he said. ' But I
feel it just the same.'
The uncle, sunk in his chair, snored a little ;
the canary answered with a shrill lullaby. Pye-
croft picked up the duster, threw it over the cage,
put his finger to his lips, and we tiptoed out into
the shop, while Leggatt brought the car round.
' I'll look out for the news in the papers,' I
said, as I got in.
* Oh, we short-circuited that ! Nothing trarn-
spired excep' a statement to the effect that some
Territorial battalions had played about with
turnips at the conclusion of the manoeuvres.
The taxpayer don't know all he gets for his
money. Farewell ! '
328 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
We moved off just in time to be blocked by a
regiment coming towards the station to entrain
for London.
* Beg your pardon, sir,' said a sergeant in
charge of the baggage, * but would you mind
backin' a bit till we get the waggons past ? '
* Certainly,' I said. ' You don't happen to
have a rocking-horse among your kit, do you ? '
The rattle of our reverse drowned his answer,
but I saw his eyes. One of them was blackish-
green, about four days old.
THE LEGEND OF MIRTH
The Four Archangels, so the legends tell,
Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, Azrael,
Being first of those to whom the Power was shown,
Stood first of all the Host before The Throne,
And when the Charges were allotted burst
Tumultuous-winged from out the assembly first.
Zeal was their spur that bade them strictly heed
Their own high judgment on their lightest deed.
Zeal was their spur that, when relief was given,
Urged them unwearied to fresh toil in Heaven ;
For Honour's sake perfecting every task
Beyond what e'en Perfection's self could ask. . . .
And Allah, Who created Zeal and Pride,
Knows how the twain are perilous-near allied.
It chanced on one of Heaven's long-lighted days,
The Four and all the Host having gone their ways
Each to his Charge, the shining Courts were void
Save for one Seraph whom no charge employed,
With folden wings and slumber-threatened brow.
To whom The Word : ' Beloved, what dost
thou ? '
329
33o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* By the Permission,' came the answer soft,
* Little I do nor do that little oft.
As is The Will in Heaven so on Earth
Where by The Will I strive to make men mirth.'
Ke ceased and sped, hearing The Word once
more :
* Beloved, go thy way and greet the Four.'
Systems and Universes overpast,
The Seraph came upon the Four, at last,
Guiding and guarding with devoted mind
The tedious generations of mankind
Who lent at most unwilling ear and eye
When they could not escape the ministry. . . .
Yet, patient, faithful, firm, persistent, just
Toward all that gross, indifferent, facile dust,
The Archangels laboured to discharge their trust
By precept and example, prayer and lav/,
Advice, reproof, and rule, but, labouring, saw
Each in his fellow's countenance confessed,
The Doubt that sickens : * Have I done my best ? '
Even as they sighed and turned to toil anew,
The Seraph hailed them with observance due ;
And after some fit talk of higher things
Touched tentative on mundane happenings.
This they permitting, he, emboldened thus,
Prolused of humankind promiscuous.
And, since the large contention less avails
Than instances observed, he told them tales —
Tales of the shop, the bed, the court, the street,
Intimate, elemental, indiscreet :
Occasions where Confusion smiting swift
THE LEGEND OF MIRTH 331
Piles jest on jest as snow-slides pile the drift
Whence, one by one, beneath derisive skies,
The victims bare, bewildered heads arise :
Tales of the passing of the spirit, graced
With humour blinding as the doom it faced :
Stark tales of ribaldry that broke aside
To tears, by laughter swallowed ere they dried :
Tales to which neither grace nor gain accrue,
But only (Allah be exalted !) true,
And only, as the Seraph showed that night,
Delighting to the limits of delight.
These he rehearsed with artful pause and halt,
And such pretence of memory at fault,
That soon the Four — so well the bait was thrown —
Came to his aid with memories of their own —
Matters dismissed long since as small or vain,
WThereof the high significance had lain
Hid, till the ungirt glosses made it plain.
Then, as enlightenment came broad and fast,
Each marvelled at his own oblivious past
Until — the Gates of Laughter opened wide —
The Four, with that bland Seraph at their side,
While they recalled, compared, and amplified,
In utter mirth forgot both zeal and pride.
High over Heaven the lamps of midnight burned
Ere, weak with merriment, the Four returned,
Not in that order they were wont to keep —
Pinion to pinion answering, sweep for sweep,
In awful diapason heard afar,
But shoutingly adrift 'twixt star and star.
332 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Reeling a planet's orbit left or right
As laughter took them in the abysmal Night ;
Or, by the point of some remembered jest,
Winged and brought helpless down through gulfs
unguessed,
Where the blank worlds that gather to the birth
Leaped in the womb of Darkness at their mirth,
And e'en Gehenna's bondsmen understood.
They were not damned from human brotherhood.
Not first nor last of Heaven's high Host, the Four
That night took place beneath The Throne once
more.
O lovelier than their morning majesty,
The understanding light behind the eye !
O more compelling than their old command,
The new-learned friendly gesture of the hand !
O sweeter than their zealous fellowship,
The wise half-smile that passed from lip to lip !
O well and roundly, when Command was given,
They told their tale against themselves to Heaven,
And in the silence, waiting on The Word,
Received the Peace and Pardon of The Lord !
My Son's Wife '
O913)
He had suffered from the disease of the century
since his early youth, and before he was thirty he
was heavily marked with it. He and a few
friends had rearranged Heaven very comfortably,
but the reorganisation of Earth, which they called
Society, was even greater fun. It demanded
Work in the shape of many taxi -rides daily ;
hours of brilliant talk with brilliant talkers ; some
sparkling correspondence ; a {qw silences (but on
the understanding that their own turn should
come soon) while other people expounded philo-
sophies ; and a fair number of picture-galleries,
tea-fights, concerts, theatres, music-halls, and
cinema shows ; the whole trimmed with love-
making to women whose hair smelt of cigarette-
smoke! Such strong days sent Frankwell Mid-
more back to his fiat assured that he and his
friends had helped the World a step nearer the
Truth, the Dawn, and the New Order.
His temperament, he said, led him more
towards concrete data than abstract ideas.
333
334 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
People who investigate detail are apt to be tired
at the day's end. The same temperament^ or it
may have been a woman, made him early attach
himself to the Immoderate Left of his Cause in
the capacity of an experimenter in Social Relations.
And since the Immoderate Left contains plenty
of women anxious to help earnest inquirers with
large independent incomes to arrive at evalua-
tions of essentials, Frankwell Midmore's lot was
far from contemptible.
At that hour Fate chose to play with him. A
widowed aunt, widely separated by nature, and
more widely by marriage, from all that Midmore's
mother had ever been or desired to be, died and
left him possessions. Mrs. Midmore, having
that summer embraced a creed which denied the
existence of death, naturally could not stoop to
burial ; but Midmore had to leave London for
the dank country at a season when Social Re-
generation works best through long, cushioned
conferences, two by two, after tea. There he
faced the bracing ritual of the British funeral, and
was wept at across the raw grave by an elderly
cofHn-shaped female with a long nose, who called
him * Master Frankie' ; and there he was congratu-
lated behind an echoing top-hat by a man he
mistook for a mute, who turned out to be his
aunt's lawyer. He wrote his mother next day,
after a bright account of the funeral :
' So far as I can understand, she has left me
between four and five hundred a year. It all
comes from Ther Land, as they call it down here.
The unspeakable attorney, Sperrit, and a green-
'MY SON'S WIFE* 335
eyed daughter, who hums to herself as she tramps
but is silent on all subjects except " huntin',"
insisted on taking me to see it. Ther Land is
brown and green in alternate slabs like chocolate
and pistachio cakes, speckled with occasional
peasants who do not utter. In case it should not
be wet enough there is a wet brook in the middle
of it. Ther House is by the brook. I shall
look into it later. If there should be any little
memento of Jenny that you care for, let me
know. Didn't you tell me that mid-Victorian
furniture is coming into the market again ?
Jenny's old maid — it is called Rhoda Dolbie —
tells me that Jenny promised it thirty pounds a
year. The will does not. Hence, I suppose, the
tears at the funeral. But that is close on ten per
cent of the income. I fancy Jenny has destroyed
all her private papers and records of her vie intime,
if, indeed, life be possible in such a place. The
Sperrit man told me that if I had means of my
own I might come and live on Ther Land. I
didn't tell him how much I would pay not to !
I cannot think it right that any human being
should exercise mastery over others in the merci-
less fashion our tom-fool social system permits ;
so, as it is all mine, I intend to sell it whenever the
unholy Sperrit can find a purchaser.'
And he went to Mr. Sperrit with the idea next
day, just before returning to town.
' Quite so,' said the lawyer. ' I see your point,
of course. But the house itself is rather old-
fashioned — hardly the type purchasers demand
nowadays. There's no park, of course, and the
^6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
bulk, of the land is let to a life-tenant, a Mr.
Sidney. As long as he pays his rent, he can't be
turned out, and even if he didn't ' — Mr. Sperrit's
face relaxed a shade — ' you might have a difficulty.'
* The property brings four hundred a year, I
understand,' said Midmore.
' Well, hardly — ha-ardly. Deducting land and
income tax, tithes, fire insurance, cost of collection
and repairs of course, it leturned two hundred
and eighty-four pounds last year. The repairs
are rather a large item — owing to the brook. I
call it Liris — out of Horace, you know.'
Midmore looked at his watch impatiently.
' 1 suppose you can find somebody to buy it ? '
he repeated.
' We will do our best, of course, if those are
your instructions. Then, that is all except ' — here
Midmore half rose, but Mr. Sperrit's little grey
eyes held his large brown ones firmly — ' except
about Rhoda Dolbie, Mrs. Werf's maid. I may
tell you that we did not draw up your aunt's last
will. She grew secretive towards the last — elderly
people often do — and had it done in London. I
expect her memory failed her, or she mislaid her
notes. She used to put them in her spectacle-
case. . . . My motor only takes eight minutes to
get to the station, Mr. Midmore . . . but, as I
was saying, whenever she made her will with us,
Mrs. Werf always left Rhoda thirty pounds per
annum. Charlie, the wills ! ' A clerk with a
baldish head and a long nose dealt documents on
to the table like cards, and breathed heavily behind
Midmore. ' It's in no sense a legal obligation, of
'MY SON'S WIFE' 337
course,' said Mr. Sperrit. ' Ah, that one is dated
January the nth, eighteen eighty-nine.'
Midmore looked at his watch again and found
himself saying with no good grace : ' Well, I
suppose she'd better have it — for the present at
any rate.'
He escaped with an uneasy feeling that two
hundred and fifty-four pounds a year was not
exactly four hundred, and that Charlie's long nose
annoyed him. Then he returned, first-class, to
his own affairs.
Of the two, perhaps three, experiments in Social
Relations which he had then in hand, one interested
him acutely. It had run for some months and
promised most variegated and interesting develop-
ments, on which he dwelt luxuriously all the way
to town. When he reached his flat he was not
well prepared for a twelve-page letter explaining,
in the diction of the Immoderate Left which
rubricates its I's and illuminates its T's, that the
lady had realised greater attractions in another
Soul. She re-stated, rather than pleaded, the gospel
of the Immoderate Left as her justification, and
ended in an impassioned demand for her right to
express herself in and on her own life, through
which, she pointed out, she could pass but once.
She added that if, later, she should discover
Midmore was ' essentially complementary to her
needs,' she would tell him so. That Midmore had
himself written much the same sort of epistle —
barring the hint of return — to a woman of whom
his needs for self-expression had caused him to
weary three years before, did not assist him in
z
338 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
the least. He expressed himself to the gas-fire
in terms essential but not complimentary. Then
he reflected on the detached criticism of his best
friends and her best friends, male and female, with
whom he and she and others had talked so openly
while their gay adventure was in flower. He
recalled, too — this must have been about midnight
— her analysis from every angle, remote and most
intimate, of the mate to whom she had been
adjudged under the base convention which is styled
marriage. Later, at that bad hour when the cattle
wake for a little, he remembered her in other
aspects and went down into the hell appointed ;
desolate, desiring, with no God to call upon.
About eleven o'clock next morning Eliphaz the
Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the
Naamathite called upon him ' for they had made
appointment together ' to see how he took it ; but
the janitor told them that Job had gone — into the
country, he believed.
Midmore's relief when he found his story was
not written across his aching temples for Mr.
Sperrit to read — the defeated lover, like the
successful one, believes all earth privy to his soul
— was put down by Mr. Sperrit to quite different
causes. He led him into a morning-room. The
rest of the house seemed to be full of people,
singing to a loud piano idiotic songs about cows,
and the hall smelt of damp cloaks.
* It's our evening to take the winter cantata,'
Mr. Sperrit explained. ' It's " High Tide on the
Coast of Lincolnshire." I hoped you'd come
back. There are scores of little things to settle.
1 MY SON'S WIFE ' 339
As for the house, of course, it stands ready for you
at any time. I couldn't get Rhoda out of it — nor
could Charlie for that matter. She's the sister,
isn't she, of the nurse who brought you down
here when you were four, she says, to recover from
measles ? '
* Is she ? Was I ? ' said Midmore through the
bad tastes in his mouth. ' D'you suppose I could
stay there the night ? '
Thirty joyous young voices shouted appeal to
some one to leave their 'pipes of parsley 'ollow —
'ollow — 'ollow ! ' Mr. Sperrit had to raise his
voice above the din.
* Well, if I asked you to stay here, I should
never hear the last of it from Rhoda. She's a little
cracked, of course, but the soul of devotion and
capable of anything. Ne sit ancillae, you know.'
'Thank you. Then I'll go. I'll walk.' He
stumbled out dazed and sick into the winter twi-
light, and sought the square house by the brook.
It was not a dignified entry, because when the
door was unchained and Rhoda exclaimed, he took
two valiant steps into the hall and then fainted —
as men sometimes will after twenty-two hours of
strong emotion and little food.
* I'm sorry,' he said when he could speak. He
was lying at the foot of the stairs, his head on
Rhoda's lap.
* Your 'ome is your castle, sir,' was the reply
in his hair. ' I smelt it wasn't drink. You lay
on the sofa till I get your supper.'
She settled him in a drawing-room hung with
yellow silk, heavy with the smell of dead leaves
34Q A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
and oil lamp. Something murmured soothingly
in the background and overcame the noises in his
head. He thought he heard horses' feet on wet
gravel and a voice singing about ships and flocks
and grass. It passed close to the shuttered bay-
window.
But each will mourn his own, she saith,
And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath
Than my son's wife, Elizabeth . . .
Cusha — cusha — cusha — calling.
The hoofs broke into a canter as Rhoda entered
with the tray. ' And then I'll put you to bed,'
she said. ' Sidney's coming in the morning.'
Midmore asked no questions. He dragged his
poor bruised soul to bed and would have pitied it
all over again, but the food and warm sherry and
water drugged him to instant sleep.
Rhoda's voice wakened him, asking whether he
would have ' 'ip, foot, or sitz,' which he under-
stood were the baths of the establishment. * Sup-
pose you try all three,' she suggested. * They're
all yours, you know, sir.'
He would have renewed his sorrows with the
daylight, but her words struck him pleasantly.
Everything his eyes opened upon was his very own
to keep for ever. The carved four-post Chippen-
dale bed, obviously worth hundreds ; the wavy
walnut William and Mary chairs — he had seen
worse ones labelled twenty guineas apiece ; the
oval medallion mirror ; the delicate eighteenth-
century wire fireguard ; the heavy brocaded cur-
tains were his — all his. So, too, a great garden
full of birds that faced him when he shaved ; a
'MY SON'S WIFE' 341
mulberry tree, a sun-dial, and a dull, steel-coloured
brook that murmured level with the edge of a
lawn a hundred yards away. Peculiarly and pri-
vately his own was the smell of sausages and coffee
that he sniffed at the head of the wide square
landing, all set round with mysterious doors and
Bartolozzi prints. He spent two hours after
breakfast in exploring his new possessions. His
heart leaped up at such things as sewing-machines,
a rubber-tyred bath-chair in a tiled passage, a mala-
chite-headed Malacca cane, boxes and boxes of
unopened stationery, seal-rings, bunches of keys,
and at the bottom of a steel-net reticule, a little
leather purse with seven pounds ten shillings in
gold and eleven shillings in silver.
' You used to play with that when my sister
brought you down here after your measles,' said
Rhoda as he slipped the money into his pocket.
' Now, this was your pore dear auntie's business-
room.' She opened a low door. ' Oh, I forgot
about Mr. Sidney ! There he is.' An enormous
old man with rheumy red eyes that blinked under
downy white eyebrows sat in an Empire chair, his
cap in his hands. Rhoda withdrew sniffing. The
man looked Midmore over in silence, then jerked
a thumb towards the door. ' I reckon she told
you who I be,' he began. 'I'm the only farmer
you've got. Nothin' goes off my place 'thout
it walks on its own feet. What about my pig-
pound ?'
' Well, what about it ? ' said Midmore.
' That's just what I be come about. The
County Councils are getting more particular. Did
342 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
ye know there was swine fever at Pashell's ? There
be. It'll 'ave to be in brick.'
'Yes,' said Midmore politely.
* I've bin at your aunt that was, plenty times
about it. I don't say she wasn't a just woman, but
she didn't read the lease same way I did. I be
used to bein' put upon, but there's no doing any
longer 'thout that pig-pound.'
' When would you like it ? ' Midmore asked.
It seemed the easiest road to take.
' Any time or other suits me, I reckon. He
ain't thrivin' where he is, an' I paid eighteen shillin'
for him.' He crossed his hands on his stick and
gave no further sign of life.
' Is that all ? ' Midmore stammered.
' All now — excep' ' — he glanced fretfully at
the table beside him — ' excep' my usuals. Where's
that Rhoda ? '
Midmore rang the bell. Rhoda came in with
a bottle and a glass. The old man helped himself
to four stiff fingers, rose in one piece, and stumped
out. At the door he cried ferociously : ' Don't
suppose it's any odds to you whether I'm drowned
or not, but them floodgates want a wheel and
winch, they do. I be too old for liftin' 'em with
the bar — my time o' life.'
' Good riddance if 'e was drowned,' said Rhoda.
1 But don't you mind him. He's only amusin'
himself. Your pore dear auntie used to give 'im
'is usual — 'tisn't the whisky you drink — an' send
'im about- 'is business.'
1 1 see. Now, is a pig-pound the same thing
as a pig-sty ? '
■ MY SON'S WIFE' 343
Rhoda nodded. ' 'E needs one, too, but 'e ain't
entitled to it. You look at 'is lease — third drawer
on the left in that Bombay cab'net — an' next time
'e comes you ask 'im to read it. That'll choke
'im off, because 'e can't ! '
There was nothing in Midmore's past to teach
him the message and significance of a hand-written
lease of the late 'eighties, but Rhoda interpreted.
' It don't mean anything reelly,' was her
cheerful conclusion, * excep' you mustn't get rid
of him anyhow, an' 'e can do what 'e likes always.
Lucky for us 'e do farm ; and if it wasn't for 'is
woman '
' Oh, there's a Mrs. Sidney, is there ? '
1 Lor, no ! ' The Sidneys don't marry. They
keep. That's his fourth since — to my knowledge.
He was a takin' man from the first.'
1 Any families ? '
' They'd be grown up by now if there was,
wouldn't they ? But you can't spend all your
days considerin' 'is interests. That's what gave
your pore aunt 'er indigestion. 'Ave you seen the
gun-room ? '
Midmore held strong views on the immorality
of taking life for pleasure. But there was no
denying that the late Colonel Werf's seventy-
guinea breechloaders were good at their filthy job.
He loaded one, took it out and pointed — merely
pointed — it at a cock-pheasant which rose out of
a shrubbery behind the kitchen, and the flaming
bird came down in a long slant on the lawn, stone
dead. Rhoda from the scullery said it was a lovely
shot, and told him lunch was ready.
344 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
He spent the afternoon gun in one hand, a map
in the other, beating the bounds of his lands. They
lay altogether in a shallow, uninteresting valley,
flanked with woods and bisected by a brook. Up
stream was his own house ; down stream, less than
half a mile, a low red farm-house squatted in an
old orchard, beside what looked like small lock-
gates on the Thames. There was no doubt as to
ownership. Mr. Sidney saw him while yet far off,
and bellowed at him about pig-pounds and flood-
gates. These last were two great sliding shutters
of weedy oak across the brook, which were prised
up inch by inch with a crowbar along a notched
strip of iron, and when Sidney opened them they
at once let out half the water. Mid more watched
it shrink between its aldered banks like some
conjuring trick. This, too,, was his very own.
i I see,' he said. ' How interesting ! Now,
what's that bell for ? ' he went on, pointing to an
old ship's bell in a rude belfry at the end of an
outhouse. ' Was that a chapel once ? ' The red-
eyed giant seemed to have difficulty in expressing
himself for the moment and blinked savagely.
' Yes,' he said at last. ' My chapel. When
you 'ear that bell ring you'll 'ear something.
Nobody but me ud put up with it — but I reckon
it don't make any odds to you.' He slammed the
gates down again, and the brook rose behind them
with a suck and a grunt.
Midmore moved off, conscious that he might
be safer with Rhoda to hold his conversational
hand. As he passed the front of the farm-house
a smooth fat woman, with neatly parted grey hair
< MY SON'S WIFE ' 345
under a widow's cap, curtsied to him deferentially
through the window. By every teaching of the
Immoderate Left she had a perfect right to express
herself in any way she pleased, but the curtsey
revolted him. And on his way home he was
hailed from behind a hedge by a manifest idiot
with no roof to his mouth, who hallooed and danced
round him.
* What did that beast want ? ' he demanded of
Rhoda at tea.
'Jimmy ? He only wanted to know if you 'ad
any telegrams to send. 'E'll go anywhere so long
as 'tisn't across running water. That gives 'im 'is
seizures. Even talkin' about it for fun like makes
'im shake.'
* But why isn't he where he can be properly
looked after ? '
' What 'arm's 'e doing ? 'E's a love-child, but
'is family can pay for 'im. If 'e was locked up
'e'd die all off at once, like a wild rabbit, Won't
you, please, look at the drive, sir ? '
Midmore looked in the fading light. The neat
gravel was pitted with large roundish holes, and
there was a punch or two of the same sort on the
lawn.
' That's the 'unt comin' 'ome,' Rhoda explained.
' Your pore dear auntie always let 'em use our
drive for a short cut after the Colonel died. The
Colonel wouldn't so much because he preserved ;
but your auntie was always an 'orsewoman till 'er
sciatica.'
' Isn't there some one who can rake it over or
— or something ? ' said Midmore vaguely.
346 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Oh yes. You'll never see it in the morning,
but — you was out when they came 'ome an' Mister
Fisher — he's the Master — told me to tell you with
'is compliments that if you wasn't preservin* and
cared to 'old to the old understandin', 'is gravel-
pit is at your service same as before. 'E thought,
perhaps, you mightn't know, and it 'ad slipped
my mind to tell you. It's good gravel, Mister
Fisher's, and it binds beautiful on the drive. We
'ave to draw it, o' course, from the pit, but '
Midmore looked at her helplessly.
' Rhoda,' said he, c what am I supposed to do ? '
* Oh, let 'em come through,' she replied. 'You
never know. You may want to 'unt yourself
some day.'
That evening it rained and his misery returned
on him, the worse for having been diverted. At
last he was driven to paw over a few score books
in a panelled room called the library, and realised
with horror what the late Colonel Werf's mind
must have been in its prime. The volumes smelt
of a dead world as strongly as they did of mildew.
He opened and thrust them back, one after another,
till crude coloured illustrations of men on horses held
his eye. He began at random and read a little,
moved into the drawing-room with the volume,
and settled down by the fire still reading. It was
a foul world into which he peeped for the first
time — a heavy-eating, hard-drinking hell of horse-
copers, swindlers, matchmaking mothers, economic-
ally dependent virgins selling themselves blushingly
for cash and lands : Jews, tradesmen, and an
ill-considered spawn of Dickens- and -horsedung
■ MY SON'S WIFE '
347
characters (I give Midmore's own criticism), but
he read on, fascinated, and behold, from the pages
leaped, as it were, the brother to the red-eyed
man of the brook, bellowing at a landlord (here
Midmore realised that he was that very animal)
for new barns ; and another man who, like himself
again, objected to hoof-marks on gravel. Out-
rageous as thought and conception were, the stuff
seemed to have the rudiments of observation. He
dug out other volumes by the same author, till
Rhoda came in with a silver candlestick.
1 Rhoda,' said he, ' did you ever hear about a
character called James Pigg — and Batsey ? '
* Why, o' course,' said she. ' The Colonel
used to come into the kitchen in 'is dressin'-gown
D
an' read us all those Jorrockses.'
* Oh, Lord ! ' said Midmore, and went to bed
with a book called Handley Cross under his arm,
and a lonelier Columbus into a stranger world
the wet-ringed moon never looked upon.
Here we omit much. But Midmore never
denied that for the epicure in sensation the urgent
needs of an ancient house, as interpreted by Rhoda
pointing to daylight through attic-tiles held in
place by moss, gives an edge to the pleasure of
Social Research elsewhere. Equally he found that
the reaction following prolonged research loses
much of its grey terror if one knows one can at
will bathe the soul in the society of plumbers (all
the water-pipes had chronic appendicitis), village
idiots (Jimmy had taken Midmore under his weak
wing and camped daily at the drive-gates), and
348 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
a giant with red eyelids whose every action is an
unpredictable outrage.
Towards spring Midmore filled his house with
a few friends of the Immoderate Left. It happened
to be the day when, all things and Rhoda working
together, a cartload of bricks, another of sand,
and some bags of lime had been despatched to
build Sidney his almost daily -demanded pig-
pound. Midmore took his friends across the flat
fields with some idea of showing them Sidney as
a type of * the peasantry.' They hit the minute
when Sidney, hoarse with rage, was ordering brick-
layer, mate, carts and all off his premises. The
visitors disposed themselves to listen.
' You never give me no notice about changin'
the pig,' Sidney shouted. The pig — at least
eighteen inches long — reared on end in the old
sty and smiled at the company.
* But, my good man ' Midmore opened.
' I ain't ! For aught you know I be a dam'
sight worse than you be. You can't come and
be'ave arbit'ry with me. You are be'avin' arbit'ry !
All you men go clean away an' don't set foot on
my land till I bid ye.'
* But you asked ' — Midmore felt his voice jump
up — ' to have the pig-pound built.'
' 'Spose I did, That's no reason you shouldn't
send me notice to change the pig. 'Comin' down
on me like this 'thout warnin' ! That pig's got
to be got into the cowshed an' all.'
' Then open the door and let him run in,' said
Midmore.
' Don't you be'ave arbit'ry with me ! Take
<MY SON'S WIFE' 349
all your dam' men 'ome off my land. I won't
be treated arbit'ry.'
The carts moved off without a word, and
Sidney went into the house and slammed the door.
' Now, I hold that is enormously significant,'
said a visitor. ' Here you have the logical out-
come of centuries of feudal oppression — the frenzy
of fear.' The company looked at Midmore with
grave pain.
' But he did worry my life out about his pig-sty,'
was all Midmore found to say.
Others took up the parable and proved to
him if he only held true to the gospels of the
Immoderate Left the earth would soon be covered
with 'jolly little' pig-sties, built in the intervals of
morris-dancing by ' the peasant ' himself.
Midmore felt grateful when the door opened
again and Mr. Sidney invited them all to retire
to the road which, he pointed out, was public.
As they turned the corner of the house, a smooth-
faced woman in a widow's cap curtsied to each
of them through the window.
Instantly they drew pictures of that woman's
lot, deprived of all vehicle for self-expression —
'the set grey life and apathetic end,' one quoted
— and they discussed the tremendous significance
of village theatricals. Even a month ago Midmore
would have told them all that he knew and Rhoda
had dropped about Sidney's forms of self-ex-
pression. Now, for some strange reason, he was
content to let the talk run on from village to
metropolitan and world drama.
Rhoda advised him after the visitors left that
350 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' if he wanted to do that again ' he had better go
up to town.
' But we only sat on cushions on the floor,'
said her master.
* They're too old for romps,' she retorted, ' an'
it's only the beginning of things. I've seen what
Vve seen. Besides, they talked and laughed in the
passage going to their baths— such as took 'em.'
1 Don't be a fool, Rhoda,' said Midmore. No
man — unless he has loved her — will casually
dismiss a woman on whose lap he has laid his
head.
'Very good,' she snorted, 'but that cuts both
ways. An' now, you go down to Sidney's this
evenin' and put him where he ought to be. He
was in his right about you givin' 'im notice about
changin' the pig, but he 'adn't any right to turn
it up before your company. No manners, no
pig-pound. He'll understand.'
Midmore did his best to make him. He
found himself reviling the old man in speech and
with a joy quite new in all his experience. He
wound up — it was a plagiarism from a plumber —
by telling Mr. Sidney that he looked like a turkey-
cock, had the morals of a parish bull, and need
never hope for a new pig-pound as long as he or
Midmore lived.
*. Very good,' said the giant. ' I reckon you
thought you 'ad something against me, and now
you've come down an' told it me like man to man.
Quite right. I don't bear malice. Now, you
send along those bricks an' sand, an' I'll make a
do to build the pig-pound myself. If you look at
'MY SON'S WIFE' 351
my lease you'll find out you're bound to provide
me materials for the repairs. Only — only I
thought there'd be no 'arm in my askin' you to do
it throughout like.'
Midmore fairly gasped. ' Then, why the
devil did you turn my carts back when — when
I sent them up here to do it throughout for you ? '
Mr. Sidney sat down on the floodgates, his
eyebrows knitted in thought.
* I'll tell you,' he said slowly. ' 'Twas too
dam' like cheatin' a suckin' baby. My woman,
she said so too.'
For a few seconds the teachings of the Im-
moderate Left, whose humour is all their own,
wrestled with those of Mother Earth, who has
her own humours. Then Midmore laughed till
he could scarcely stand. In due time Mr. Sidney
laughed too — crowing and wheezing crescendo
till it broke from him in roars. They shook
hands, and Midmore went home grateful that he
had held his tongue among his companions.
When he reached his house he met three or
four men and women on horseback, very muddy
indeed, coming down the drive. Feeling hungry
himself, he asked them if they were hungry. They
said they were, and he bade them enter. Jimmy
took their horses, who seemed to know him.
Rhoda took their battered hats, led the women
upstairs for hairpins, and presently fed them all
with tea-cakes, poached eggs, anchovy toast, and
drinks from a coromandel-wood liqueur case which
Midmore had never known that he possessed.
* And I will say,' said Miss Connie Sperrit, her
352 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
spurred foot on the fender and a smoking muffin
in her whip hand, ' Rhoda does one top-hole.
She always did since I was eight.'
' Seven, Miss, was when you began to 'unt,'
said Rhoda, setting down more buttered toast.
'And so,' the M.F.H. was saying to Midmore,
'when he got to your brute Sidney's land, we
had to whip 'em off. It's a regular Alsatia for
'em. They know it. Why ' — he dropped his
voice — ' I don't want to say anything against
Sidney as your tenant, of course, but I do believe
the old scoundrel's perfectly capable of putting
down poison.'
'Sidney's capable of anything,' said Midmore
with immense feeling ; but once again he held his
tongue. They were a queer community ; yet
when they had stamped and jingled out to their
horses again, the house felt hugely big and
disconcerting.
This may be reckoned the conscious beginning
of his double life. It ran in odd channels that
summer — a riding school, for instance, near Hayes
Common and a shooting ground near Wormwood
Scrubs. A man who has been saddle-galled or
shoulder-bruised for half the day is not at his
London best of evenings ; and when the bills for
his amusements come in he curtails his expenses in
other directions. So a cloud settled on Midmore's
name. His London world talked of a hardening
of heart and a tightening of purse-strings which
signified disloyalty to the Cause. One man, a
confidant of the old expressive days, attacked him
robustiously and demanded account of his soul's
<MY SON'S WIFE' 353
progress. It was not furnished, for Midmore was
calculating how much it would cost to repave
stables so dilapidated that even the village idiot
apologised for putting visitors' horses into them.
The man went away, and served up what he had
heard of the pig-pound episode as a little news-
paper sketch, calculated to annoy. Midmore read
it with an eye as practical as a woman's, and since
most of his experiences had been among women,
at once sought out a woman to whom he might
tell his sorrow at the disloyalty of his own familiar
friend. She was so sympathetic that he went on
to confide how his bruised heart — she knew all
about it — had found so-lace, with a long O, in
another quarter which he indicated rather care-
fully in case it might be betrayed to other loyal
friends. As his hints pointed directly towards
facile Hampstead, and as his urgent business was
the purchase of a horse from a dealer, Beckenham
way, he felt he had done good work. Later, when
his friend, the scribe, talked to him alluringly of
' secret gardens ' and those so-laces to which every
man who follows the Wider Morality is entitled,
Midmore lent him a five-pound note which he
had got back on the price of a ninety-guinea bay
gelding. So true it is, as he read in one of the
late Colonel Werf's books, that 'the young man
of the present day would sooner lie under an
imputation against his morals than against his
knowledge of horse-flesh.'
Midmore desired more than he desired anything
else at that moment to ride and, above all, to jump
on a ninety-guinea bay gelding with black points
2 A
354 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
and a slovenly habit of hitting his fences. He did
not wish many people except Mr. Sidney, who
very kindly lent his soft meadow behind the flood-
gates, to be privy to the matter, which he rightly
foresaw would take him to the autumn. So he told
such friends as hinted at country week-end visits
that he had practically let his newly inherited house.
The rent, he said, was an object to him, for he
had lately lost large sums through ill-considered
benevolences. He would name no names, but they
could guess. And they guessed loyally all round
the circle of his acquaintance as they spread the
news that explained so much.
There remained only one couple of his once
intimate associates to pacify. They were deeply
sympathetic and utterly loyal, of course, but as
curious as any of the apes whose diet they had
adopted. Midmore met them in a suburban train,
coming up to town, not twenty minutes after he
had come ofF two hours' advanced tuition (one
guinea an hour) over hurdles in a hall. He had,
of course, changed his kit, but his too heavy
bridle-hand shook a little among the newspapers.
On the inspiration of the moment, which is your
natural liar's best hold, he told them that he was
condemned to a rest-cure. He would lie in semi-
darkness drinking milk, for weeks and weeks, cut
off even from letters. He was astonished and
delighted at the ease with which the usual lie con-
founds the unusual intellect. They swallowed it
as swiftly as they recommended him to live on nuts
and fruit; but he saw in the woman's eyes the exact
reason she would set forth for his retirement.
<MY SON'S WIFE' 355
After all, she had as much right to express herself
as he purposed to take for himself ; and Midmore
believed strongly in the fullest equality of the sexes.
That retirement made one small ripple in the
strenuous world. The lady who had written the
twelve-page letter ten months before sent him
another of eight pages, analysing all the motives
that were leading her back to him — should she
come ? — now that he was ill and alone. Much
might yet be retrieved, she said, out of the waste
of jarring lives and piteous misunderstandings. It
needed only a hand.
But Midmore needed two, next morning very
early, for a devil's diversion, among wet coppices,
called ' cubbing.'
1 You haven't a bad seat,' said Miss Sperrit
through the morning-mists. ' But you're worry-
ing him.'
' He pulls so,' Midmore grunted.
* Let him alone, then. Look out for the
branches,' she shouted, as they whirled up a splashy
ride. Cubs were plentiful. Most of the hounds
attached themselves to a straight-necked youngster
of education who scuttled out of the woods into the
open fields below.
* Hold on ! ' some one shouted. c Turn 'em,
Midmore. That's your brute Sidney's land. It's
all wire.'
* Oh, Connie, stop ! ' Mrs. Sperrit shrieked as
her daughter charged at a boundary-hedge.
1 Wire be damned ! I had it all out a fortnight
ago. Come on ! ' This was Midmore, buffeting
into it a little lower down.
3$6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
* / knew that ! ' Connie cried over her shoulder,
and she flitted across the open pasture, humming
to herself.
'Oh, of course! If some people have private
information, they can afford to thrust.' This was
a snuff-coloured habit into which Miss Sperrit had
cannoned down the ride.
1 What ! 'Midmore got Sidney to heel ? You
never did that, Sperrit.' This was Mr. Fisher,
M.F.H., enlarging the breach Midmore had made.
1 No, confound him ! ' said the father testily.
'Go on, sir! Injecto ter pulvere — you've kicked
half the ditch into my eye already.'
They killed that cub a little short of the haven
his mother had told him to make for — a two-acre
Alsatia of a gorse-patch to which the M.F.H. had
been denied access for the last fifteen seasons. He
expressed his gratitude before all the field and Mr.
Sidney, at Mr. Sidney's farmhouse door.
' And if there should be any poultry claims '
he went on.
' There won't be,' said Midmore. ' It's too
like cheating a sucking child, isn't it, Mr. Sidney ? '
' You've got me ! ' was all the reply. ' I be
used to bein' put upon, but you've got me, Mus'
Midmore.'
Midmore pointed to a new brick pig-pound
built in strict disregard of the terms of the life-
tenant's lease. The gesture told the tale to the
few who did not know, and they shouted.
Such pagan delights as these were followed by
pagan sloth of evenings when men and women
elsewhere are at their brightest. But Midmore
'MY SON'S WIFE' 357
preferred to lie out on a yellow silk couch, reading
works of a debasing vulgarity ; or, by invitation,
to dine with the Sperrits and savages of their
kidney. These did not expect flights of fancy
or phrasing. They lied, except about horses,
grudgingly and of necessity, not for art's sake ;
and, men and women alike, they expressed them-
selves along their chosen lines with the serene in-
difference of the larger animals. Then Midmore
would go home and identify them, one by one,
out of the natural-history books by Mr. Surtees,
on the table beside the sofa. At first they looked
upon him coolly, but when the tale of the removed
wire and the recaptured gorse had gone the
rounds, they accepted him for a person willing to
play their games. True, a faction suspended
judgment for a while, because they shot, and
hoped that Midmore would serve the glorious
mammon of pheasant-raising rather than the un-
kempt god of fox-hunting. But after he had
shown his choice, they did not ask by what
intellectual process he had arrived at it. He
hunted three, sometimes four, times a week, which
necessitated not only one bay gelding (^94 : 10s.),
but a mannerly white-stockinged chestnut (^114),
and a black mare, rather long in the back but
with a mouth of silk (^150), who so evidently
preferred to carry a lady that it would have been
cruel to have baulked her. Besides, with that
handling she could be sold at a profit. And
besides, the hunt was a quiet, intimate, kindly
little hunt, not anxious for strangers, of good
report in the Field, the servant of one M.F.H.,
358 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
given to hospitality, riding well its own horses,
and, with the exception of Midmore, not novices.
But as Miss Sperrit observed, after the M.F.H.
had said some things to him at a gate : ' It is
a pity you don't know as much as your horse,
but you will in time. It takes years and yee-ars.
I've been at it for fifteen and I'm only just learn-
ing. But you've made a decent kick-off.'
So he kicked off in wind and wet and mud,
wondering quite sincerely why the bubbling
ditches and sucking pastures held him from day
to day, or what so-lace he could find on off days in
chasing grooms and bricklayers round outhouses.
To make sure he up-rooted himself one week-
end of heavy mid-winter rain, and re-entered his
lost world in the character of Galahad fresh from a
rest-cure. They all agreed, with an eye over his
shoulder for the next comer, that he was a different
man ; but when they asked him for the symptoms
of nervous strain, and led him all through their
own, he realised he had lost much of his old skill
in lying. His three months' absence, too, had
put him hopelessly behind the London field.
The movements, the allusions, the slang of the
game had changed. The couples had rearranged
themselves or were re-crystallizing in fresh triangles,
whereby he put his foot in it badly. Only one
great' soul (he who had written the account of the
pig-pound episode) stood untouched by the vast
flux of time, and Midmore lent him another fiver
for his integrity. A woman took him, in the wet
forenoon, to a pronouncement on the Oneness of
Impulse in Humanity, which struck him as a
<MY SON'S WIFE' 359
polysyllabic resume of Mr. Sidney's domestic
arrangements, plus a clarion call to ' shock, civilisa-
tion into common-sense.'
* And you'll come to tea with me to-morrow ? '
she asked, after lunch, nibbling cashew nuts from
a saucer. Midmore replied that there were great
arrears of work to overtake when a man had been
put away for so long.
* But you've come back like a giant refreshed.
... I hope that Daphne ' — this was the lady of
the twelve and the eight-page letter — • will be with
us too. She has misunderstood herself, like so
many of us,' the woman murmured, ' but I think
eventually . . .' she flung out her thin little
hands. ' However, these are things that each
lonely soul must adjust for itself.'
1 Indeed, yes,' said Midmore with a deep sigh.
The old tricks were sprouting in the old atmo-
sphere like mushrooms in a dung-pit. He passed
into an abrupt reverie, shook his head, as though
stung by tumultuous memories, and departed
without any ceremony of farewell to — catch a mid-
afternoon express where a man meets associates
who talk horse, and weather as it affects the horse,
all the way down. What worried him most was
that he had missed a day with the hounds.
He met Rhoda's keen old eyes without
flinching ; and the drawing-room looked very
comfortable that wet evening at tea. After
all, his visit to town had not been wholly a
failure. He had burned quite a bushel of letters
at his flat. A flat — here he reached mechanically
toward the worn volumes near the sofa — a flat
360 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
was a consuming animal. As for Daphne . . .
he opened at random on the words : ' His lord-
ship then did as desired and disclosed a tableau
of considerable strength and variety/ Midmore
reflected : ' And I used to think . . . But she
wasn't . . . We were all babblers and skirters
together ... I didn't babble much — thank
goodness — but I skirted.' He turned the pages
backward for more Sortes Surteesianae, and read :
' When at length they rose to go to bed it struck
each man as he followed his neighbour upstairs,
that the man before him walked very crookedly.'
He laughed aloud at the fire.
c What about to-morrow ? ' Rhoda asked, enter-
ing with garments over her shoulder. ' It's never
stopped raining since you left. You'll be plastered
out of sight an' all in five minutes. You'd better
wear your next best, 'adn't you? I'm afraid
they've shrank. 'Adn't you best try 'em on ? '
* Here ? ' said Midmore.
* 'Suit yourself. I bathed you when you wasn't
larger than a leg o' lamb,' said the ex-ladies'-
maid.
1 Rhoda, one of these days I shall get a valet,
and a married butler.'
' There's many a true word spoke in jest.
But nobody's huntin' to-morrow.'
c Why ? Have they cancelled the meet ? '
1 They say it only means slipping and over-
reaching in the mud, and they all 'ad enough of
that to-day. Charlie told me so just now.'
* Oh ! ' It seemed that the word of Mr.
Sperrit's confidential clerk had weight.
'MY SON'S WIFE' 361
' Charlie came down to help Mr. Sidney lift
the gates,' Rhoda continued.
' The flood-gates ? They are perfectly easy
to handle now. I've put in a wheel and a winch.'
' When the brook's really up they must be
took clean out on account of the rubbish blockin'
'em. That's why Charlie came down.'
Midmore grunted impatiently. ' Everybody
has talked to me about that brook ever since
I came here. It's never done anything yet.'
* This 'as been a dry summer. If you care
to look now, sir, I'll get you a lantern.'
She paddled out with him into a large wet
night. Half-way down the lawn her light was
reflected on shallow brown water, pricked through
with grass blades at the edges. Beyond that light,
the brook was strangling and kicking among
hedges and tree-trunks.
' What on earth will happen to the big rose-
bed ? ' was Midmore's first word.
' It generally 'as to be restocked after a flood.
Ah ! ' she raised her lantern. ' There's two
garden-seats knockin' against the sun-dial. Now,
that won't do the roses any good.'
* This is too absurd. There ought to be
some decently thought - out system — for — for
dealing with this sort of thing.' He peered into
the rushing gloom. There seemed to be no
end to the moisture and the racket. In town
he had noticed nothing.
' It can't be 'elped,' said Rhoda. ' It's just
what it does do once in just so often. We'd
better go back.'
362 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
All earth under foot was sliding in a thousand
liquid noises towards the hoarse brook. Some-
body wailed from the house : ' 'Fraid o' the water !
Come 'ere ! 'Fraid o' the water ! '
' That's Jimmy. Wet always takes 'im that
way,' she explained. The idiot charged into them,
shaking with terror.
' Brave Jimmy ! How brave of Jimmy ! Come
into the hall. What Jimmy got now ? ' she
crooned. It was a sodden note which ran :
* Dear Rhoda — Mr. Lotten, with whom I rode
home this afternoon, told me that if this wet
keeps up, he's afraid the fish-pond he built last
year, where Coxen's old mill - dam was, will go,
as the dam did once before, he says. If it
does it's bound to come down the brook. It
may be all right, but perhaps you had better
look out. C. S.'
4 If Coxen's dam goes, that means . . . I'll
'ave the drawing-room carpet up at once to be on
the safe side. The claw-'ammer is in the libery.'
' Wait a minute. Sidney's gates are out, you
said ? '
' Both. He'll need it if Coxen's pond goes. . . .
I've seen it once.'
' I'll just slip down and have a look at Sidney.
Light the lantern again, please, Rhoda.'
' You won't get him to stir. He's been there
since he was born. But she don't know anything.
I'll fetch your waterproof and some top-boots.'
* 'Fraid- o' the water ! 'Fraid o' the water ! '
Jimmy sobbed, pressed against a corner of the
hall, his hands to his eyes.
'MY SON'S WIFE' 363
' All right, Jimmy. Jimmy can help play with
the carpet,' Rhoda answered, as Midmore went
forth into the darkness and the roarings all round.
He had never seen such an utterly unregulated
state of affairs. There was another lantern re-
flected on the streaming drive.
' Hi ! Rhoda ! Did you get my note ? I came
down to make sure. I thought, afterwards,
Jimmy might funk the water ! '
1 It's me — Miss Sperrit,' Midmore cried. ' Yes,
we got it, thanks.'
'You're back, then. Oh, good ! ... Is it bad
down with you ? '
' I'm going to Sidney's to have a look.'
1 You won't get him out. 'Lucky I met Bob
Lotten. I told him he hadn't any business im-
pounding water for his idiotic trout without re-
building the dam.'
' How far up is it ? I've only been there
once.'
' Not more than four miles as the water will
come. He says he's opened all the sluices.'
She had turned and fallen into step beside him,
her hooded head bowed against the thinning rain.
As usual she was humming to herself.
'Why on earth did you come out in this
weather ? ' Midmore asked.
* It was worse when you were in town. The
rain's taking off* now. If it wasn't for that pond,
I wouldn't worry so much. There's Sidney's bell.
Come on ! ' She broke into a run. A cracked
bell was jangling feebly down the valley.
' Keep on the road ! ' Midmore shouted. The
364 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
ditches were snorting bank-full on either side, and
towards the brook-side the fields were afloat and
beginning to move in the darkness.
' Catch me going off it ! There's his light
burning all right.' She halted undistressed at a
little rise. ' But the flood's in the orchard.
Look ! ' She swung her lantern to show a front
rank of old apple-trees reflected in still, out-lying
waters beyond the half-drowned hedge. They
could hear above the thud-thud of the gorged
flood-gates, shrieks in two keys as monotonous as
a steam-organ.
* The high one's the pig-' Miss Sperrit
laughed.
'AH right ! I'll get her out. You stay where
you are, and I'll see you home afterwards.'
'But the water's only just over the road,' she
objected.
' Never mind. Don't you move. Promise ? '
' All right. You take my stick, then, and feel
for holes in case anything's washed out anywhere.
This is a lark ! '
Midmore took it, and stepped into the water
that moved sluggishly as yet across the farm road
which ran to Sidney's front door from the raised
and metalled public road. It was half way up to
his knees when he knocked. As he looked back
Miss Sperrit's lantern seemed to float in mid-
ocean.
' You can't come in or the water '11 come with
you. I've -bunged up all the cracks,' Mr. Sidney
shouted from within. ' Who be ye ? '
' Take me out ! Take me out ! ' the woman
'MY SON'S WIFE' 365
shrieked, and the pig from his sty behind the house
urgently seconded the motion.
' I'm Midmore ! Coxen's old mill-dam is likely
to go, they say. Come out ! '
f I told 'em it would when they made a fish-
pond of it. 'Twasn't ever puddled proper. But
it's a middlin' wide valley. She's got room to
spread. . . . Keep still, or I'll take and duck you
in the cellar ! . . . You go 'ome, Mus' Midmore,
an' take the law o' Mus' Lotten soon's you've
changed your socks.'
1 Confound you, aren't you coming out ? '
' To catch my death o' cold ? I'm all right
where I be. I've seen it before. But you can
take her. She's no sort o' use or sense. . . . Climb
out through the window. Didn't I tell you I'd
plugged the door -cracks, you fool's daughter ? '
The parlour window opened, and the woman flung
herself into Midmore's arms, nearly knocking him
down. Mr. Sidney leaned out of the window,
pipe in mouth.
* Take her 'ome,' he said, and added oracularly :
Two women in one house,
Two cats an' one mouse,
Two dogs an' one bone —
Which I will leave alone.
I've seen it before.' Then he shut and fastened
the window.
' A trap ! A trap ! You had ought to have
brought a trap for me. I'll be drowned in this
wet,' the woman cried.
' Hold up ! You can't be any wetter than you
366 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
are. Come along ! ' Midmore did not at all like
the feel of the water over his boot-tops.
1 Hooray ! Come along ! ' Miss Sperrit's
lantern, not fifty yards away, waved cheerily.
The woman threshed towards it like a panic-
stricken goose, fell on her knees, was jerked up
again by Midmore, and pushed on till she collapsed
at Miss Sperrit's feet.
' But you won't get bronchitis if you go straight
to Mr. Midmore's house,' said the unsympathetic
maiden.
* O Gawd ! O Gawd ! I wish our 'eavenly
Father 'ud forgive me my sins an' call me 'ome,'
the woman sobbed. ' But I won't go to 'is 'ouse !
won t.
'All right, then. Stay here. Now, if we
run,' Miss Sperrit whispered to Midmore, ' she'll
follow us. Not too fast ! '
They set off at a considerate trot, and the
woman lumbered behind them, bellowing, till they
met a third lantern — Rhoda holding Jimmy's hand.
She had got the carpet up, she said, and was
escorting Jimmy past the water that he dreaded.
' That's all right,' Miss Sperrit pronounced.
* Take Mrs. Sidney back with you, Rhoda, and
put her to bed. I'll take Jimmy with me. You
aren't afraid of the water now, are you, Jimmy ? '
' Not afraid of anything now.' Jimmy reached
for her hand. 'But get away from the water
quick.'
' I'm coming with you,' Midmore interrupted.
* You most certainly are not. You're drenched,
She threw you twice. Go home and change.
'MY SON'S WIFE' 367
You may have to be out again all night. It's
only half- past seven now. I'm perfectly safe.'
She flung herself lightly over a stile, and hurried
uphill by the footpath, out of reach of all but the
boasts of the flood below.
Rhoda, dead silent, herded Mrs. Sidney to the
house.
'You'll find your things laid out on the bed,'
she said to Midmore as he came up. ' I'll attend
to — to this. Shes got nothing to cry for.'
Midmore raced into dry kit, and raced uphill
to be rewarded by the sight of the lantern just
turning into the Sperrits' gate. He came back by
way of Sidney's farm, where he saw the light
twinkling across three acres of shining water, for
the rain had ceased and the clouds were stripping
overhead, though the brook was noisier than ever.
Now there was only that doubtful mill-pond to
look after — that and his swirling world abandoned
to himself alone.
1 We shall have to sit up for it,' said Rhoda
after dinner. And as the drawing-room com-
manded the best view of the rising flood, they
watched it from there for a long time, while all
the clocks of the house bore them company.
' 'Tisn't the water, it's the mud on the skirting-
board after it goes down that I mind,' Rhoda
whispered. ' The last time Coxen's mill broke, I
remember it came up to the second — no, third —
step o' Mr. Sidney's stairs.'
4 What did Sidney do about it ? '
4 He made a notch on the step. 'E said it was
a record. Just like 'im.'
368 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' It's up to the drive now,' said Midmore after
another long wait. ' And the rain stopped before
eight, you know.'
* Then Coxen's dam 'as broke, and that's the
first of the flood-water.' She stared out beside
him. The water was rising in sudden pulses — an
inch or two at a time, with great sweeps and
lagoons and a sudden increase of the brook's
proper thunder.
' You can't stand all the time. Take a chair,'
Midmore said presently.
Rhoda looked back into the bare room. ' The
carpet bein' up does make a difference. Thank
you, sir, I will 'ave a set-down.'
' 'Right over the drive now/ said Midmore.
He opened the window and leaned out. ' Is that
wind up the valley, Rhoda?'
' No, that's /'/ ! But I've seen it before.'
There was not so much a roar as the pur-
poseful drive of a tide across a jagged reef,
which put down every other sound for twenty
minutes. A wide sheet of water hurried up to
the little terrace on which the house stood, pushed
round either corner, rose again and stretched, as
it were, yawning beneath the moonlight, joined
other sheets waiting for them in unsuspected
hollows, and lay out all in one. A puff of wind
followed.
' It's right up to the wall now. I can touch
it with my finger.' Midmore bent over the
window-sill.
' I can 'ear it in the cellars,' said Rhoda dole-
fully. ' Well, we've done what we can ! I think
< MY SON'S WIFE ' 369
I'll 'ave a look.' She left the room and was
absent half an hour or more, during which time
he saw a full-grown tree hauling itself across the
lawn by its naked roots. Then a hurdle knocked
against the wall, caught on an iron foot-scraper
just outside, and made a square- headed ripple.
The cascade through the cellar-windows diminished.
' It's dropping,' Rhoda cried, as she returned.
' It's only tricklin' into my cellars now.'
' Wait a minute. I believe — I believe I can see
the scraper on the edge of the drive just showing ! '
In another ten minutes the drive itself rough-
ened and became gravel again, tilting all its water
towards the shrubbery.
' The pond's gone past,' Rhoda announced.
' We shall only 'ave the common flood to contend
with now. You'd better go to bed.'
' I ought to go down and have another look at
Sidney before daylight.'
' No need. You can see 'is light burnin' from
all the upstairs windows.'
' By the way. I forgot about her. Where've
you put her ? '
' In my bed.' Rhoda's tone was ice. ' 1
wasn't going to undo a room for that stuff.'
* But it — it couldn't be helped,' said Midmore.
' She was half drowned. One mustn't be narrow-
minded, Rhoda, even if her position isn't quite —
er — regular.'
' Pfff ! I wasn't worryin' about that.' She
leaned forward to the window. v There's the
edge of the lawn showin' now. It falls as fast
as it rises. Dearie' — the change of tone made
2 B
370 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Midmore jump — 'didn't you know that I was 'is
first ? That's what makes it so hard to bear.'
Midmore looked at the long lizard-like back and
had no words.
She went on, still talking through the black
window-pane :
' Your pore dear auntie was very kind about
it. She said she'd make all allowances for one,
but no more. Never any more. . . . Then, you
didn't know 'oo Charlie was all this time ? '
1 Your nephew, I always thought.'
' Well, well,' she spoke pityingly. ' Every-
body's business being nobody's business, I suppose
no one thought to tell you. But Charlie made
'is own way for 'imself from the beginnin' ! . , .
But her upstairs, she never produced anything.
Just an 'ousekeeper, as you might say. 'Turned
over an' went to sleep straight off. She 'ad the
impudence to ask me for 'ot sherry-gruel.'
' Did you give it to her,' said Midmore.
< Me ? Your sherry ? No ! '
The memory of Sidney's outrageous rhyme at
the window, and Charlie's long nose (he thought
it looked interested at the time) as he passed the
copies of Mrs. WerPs last four wills, overcame
Midmore without warning.
' This damp is givin' you a cold,' said Rhoda,
rising. ' There you go again ! Sneezin's a sure
sign of it. Better go to bed. You can't do
anythin' excep' ' — she stood rigid, with crossed
arms — * about me.'
' Well. What about you ? ' Midmore stuffed
the handkerchief into his pocket.
'MY SON'S WIFE' 371
' Now you know about it, what are you goin'
to do — sir ? '
She had the answer on her lean cheek before
the sentence was finished.
' Go and see if you can get us something to eat,
Rhoda. And beer.'
4 1 expec' the larder '11 be in a swim,' she replied,
' but old bottled stuff don't take any harm from
wet.' She returned with a tray, all in order, and
they ate and drank together, and took observations
of the falling flood till dawn opened its bleared
eyes on the wreck of what had been a fair garden.
Mid more, cold and annoyed, found himself
humming :
' That flood strewed wrecks upon the grass,
That ebb swept out the flocks to sea.
There isn't a rose left, Rhoda !
An awesome ebb and flow it was
To many more than mine and me.
But each will mourn his . . .
It'll cost me a hundred.'
' Now we know the worst,' said Rhoda, ' we
can go to bed. I'll lay on the kitchen sofa. His
light's burnin' still.'
« And she ? '
* Dirty old cat ! You ought to 'ear 'er snore ! '
At ten o'clock in the morning, after a maddening
hour in his own garden on the edge of the retreating
brook, Midmore went off* to confront more damage
at Sidney's. The first thing that met him was
the pig, snowy white, for the water had washed
him out of his new sty, calling on high heaven
372 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
for breakfast. The front door had been forced
open, and the flood had registered its own height
in a brown dado on the walls. Midmore chased
the pig out and called up the stairs.
' I be abed o' course. Which step 'as she
rose to ? ' Sidney cried from above. ' The fourth ?
Then it's beat all records. Come up.'
' Are you ill ? ' Midmore asked as he entered
the room. The red eyelids blinked cheerfully.
Mr. Sidney, beneath a sumptuous patch-work
quilt, was smoking.
' Nah 1 I'm only thankin' God I ain't my own
landlord. Take that cheer. What's she done ? '
' It hasn't gone down enough for me to make
sure.'
' Them floodgates o' yourn '11 be middlin' far
down the brook by now ; an' your rose-garden
have gone after 'em. I saved my chickens, though.
You'd better get Mus' Sperrit to take the law o'
Lotten an' 'is fish-pond.'
' No, thanks. I've trouble enough without that.'
' Hev ye ? ' Mr. Sidney grinned. ' How did
ye make out with those two women o' mine last
night ? I lay they fought.'
'You infernal old scoundrel !' Midmore laughed.
' I be — an' then again I bain't,' was the placid
answer. ' But, Rhoda, she wouldn't ha' left me last
night. Fire or flood, she wouldn't.'
' Why didn't you ever marry her ? ' Midmore
asked.
4 Waste of good money. She was willin'
without.'
There was a step on the gritty mud below,
'MY SON'S WIFE' 373
and a voice humming. Midmore rose quickly
saying : ' Well, I suppose you're all right now.'
' I be. I ain't a landlord, nor I ain't young —
nor anxious. Oh, Mus' Midmore ! Would it
make any odds about her thirty pounds comin'
regular if I married her ? Charlie said maybe
'twould.'
' Did he ? ' Midmore turned at the door.
' And what did Jimmy say about it ? '
' Jimmy ? ' Mr. Sidney chuckled as the joke
took him. ' Oh, hes none o' mine. He's Charlie's
look-out.'
Midmore slammed the door and ran downstairs.
'Well, this is a — sweet — mess,5 said Miss
Sperrit in shortest skirts and heaviest riding-boots.
' I had to come down and have a look at it. " The
old mayor climbed the beifry tower." 'Been up
all night nursing your family ? '
' Nearly that ! Isn't it cheerful ? ' He pointed
through the door to the stairs with small twig-
drift on the last three treads.
' It's a record, though,' said she, and hummed
to herself :
' That flood strewed wrecks upon the grass,
That ebb swept out the flocks to sea.'
'You're always singing that, aren't you?'
Midmore said suddenly as she passed into the
parlour where slimy chairs had been stranded at
all angles.
' Am I ? Now I come to think of it I believe
I doo They say I always hum when I ride.
Have you noticed it ? '
374 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Of course I have. I notice every-
* Oh,' she went on hurriedly. ' We had it
for the village cantata last winter — " The Brides
of Enderby." '
' No ! " High Tide on the Coast of Lincoln-
shire." For some reason Midmore spoke sharply.
'Just like that.' She pointed to the befouled
walls. * I say. . . . Let's get this furniture a
little straight. . . . You know it too ? '
' Every word, since you sang it, of course.*
' When ? '
1 The first night I ever came down. You rode
past the drawing-room window in the dark singing
it — " And sweeter woman
' I thought the house was empty then. Your
aunt always let us use that short cut. Ha-hadn't
we better get this out into the passage ? It'll all
have to come out anyhow. You take the other
side.' They began to lift a heavyish table. Their
words came jerkily between gasps and their faces
were as white as — a newly washed and very hungry
' Look out ! ' Midmore shouted. His legs
were whirled from under him, as the table, grunt-
ing madly, careened and knocked the girl out of
sight.
The wild boar of Asia could not have cut down
a couple more scientifically, but this little pig
lacked his ancestor's nerve and fled shrieking
over their bodies.
1 Are you hurt, darling ? ' was Midmore's first
word, and ' No — I'm only winded — dear,' was
Miss Sperrit's, as he lifted her out of her corner,
«MY SON'S WIFE' 375
her hat over one eye and her right cheek a smear
of mud.
*****
They fed him a little later on some chicken-
feed that they found in Sidney's quiet barn, a pail
of buttermilk out of the dairy, and a quantity of
onions from a shelf in the back-kitchen.
* Seed - onions, most likely,' said Connie.
' You'll hear about this.'
' What does it matter ? They ought to have
been gilded. We must buy him.'
1 And keep him as long as he lives,' she agreed.
' But I think I ought to go home now. You see,
when I came out I didn't expect . . . Did
you ? '
* No ! Yes. ... It had to come. . . . But
it any one had told me an hour ago ! . . . Sidney's
unspeakable parlour — and the mud on the carpet.'
' Oh, I say ! Is my cheek clean now ? '
' Not quite. Lend me your hanky again a
minute, darling. . . . What a purler you came ! '
' You can't talk. 'Remember when your chin
hit that table and you said " blast " ! I was just
going to laugh.'
' You didn't laugh when I picked you up.
You were going " 00-00-00 " like a little owl.'
1 My dear child '
* Say that again ! '
' My dear child. (Do you really like it ? I
keep it for my best friends.) My dee-ar child, I
thought I was going to be sick there and then.
He knocked every ounce of wind out of me — the
angel ! But I must really go.'
376 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
They set off together, very careful not to join
hands or take arms.
' Not across the fields,' said Midmore at the
stile. ' Come round by — by your own place.'
She flushed indignantly.
' It will be yours in a little time,' he went on,
shaken with his own audacity.
' Not so much of your little times, if you
please ! ' She shied like a colt across the road ;
then instantly, like a colt, her eyes lit with new
curiosity as she came in sight of the drive-gates.
' And not quite so much of your airs and graces,
Madam,' Midmore returned, ' or I won't let you
use our drive as a short cut any more.'
' Oh, I'll be good. I'll be good.' Her voice
changed suddenly. ' I swear I'll try to be good,
dear. I'm not much of a thing at the best.
What made you . . .'
' I'm worse — worse ! Miles and oceans worse.
But what does it matter now ? '
They halted beside the gate-pillars.
' I see ! ' she said, looking up the sodden
carriage sweep to the front door porch where
Rhoda was slapping a wet mat to and fro. ' /
see. . . . Now, I really must go home. No !
Don't you come. I must speak to Mother first
all by myself.'
He watched her up the hill till she was out of
sight.
THE FLOODS
The rain it rains without a stay-
in the hills above us, in the hills ;
And presently the floods break way
Whose strength is in the hills.
The trees they suck from every cloud,
The valley brooks they roar aloud —
Bank-high for the lowlands, lowlands,
Lowlands under the hills !
The first wood down is sere and small,
From the hills, the brishings off the hills ;
And then come by the bats and all
We cut last year in the hills ;
And then the roots we tried to cleave
But found too tough and had to leave —
Poking through the lowlands, lowlands,
Lowlands under the hills !
The eye shall look, the ear shall hark
To the hills, the doings in the hills,
And rivers mating in the dark
With tokens from the hills.
377
378 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
Now what is weak will surely go,
And what is strong must prove it so.
Stand fast in the lowlands, lowlands,
Lowlands under the hills !
The floods they shall not be afraid —
Nor the hills above 'em, nor the hills —
Of any fence which man has made
Betwixt him and the hills.
The waters shall not reckon twice
For any work of man's device,
But bid it down to the lowlands, lowlands,
Lowlands under the hills !
The floods shall sweep corruption clean —
By the hills, the blessing of the hills —
That more the meadows may be green
New-mended from the hills.
The crops and cattle shall increase,
Nor little children shall not cease —
Go — plough the lowlands, lowlands,
Lowlands under the hills I
THE FABULISTS
When all the world would have a matter hid,
Since Truth is seldom friend to any crowd,
Men write in fable, as old iEsop did,
Jesting at that which none will name aloud.
And this they needs must do, or it will fall
Unless they please they are not heard at all
When desperate Folly daily laboureth
To work confusion upon all we have,
WThen diligent Sloth demandeth Freedom's death,
And banded Fear commandeth Honour's
grave —
Even in that certain hour before the fall
Unless men please they are not heard at all.
Needs must all please, yet some not all for need
Needs must all toil, yet some not all for gain,
But that men taking pleasure may take heed,
Whom present toil shall snatch from later pain.
Thus some have toiled but their reward was small
Since, though they pleased, they were not heard
at all.
379
380 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
This was the lock that lay upon our lips,
This was the yoke that we have undergone,
Denying us all pleasant fellowships
As in our time and generation.
Our pleasures unpursued age past recall.
And for our pains — we are not heard at all.
What man hears aught except the groaning guns ?
What man heeds aught save what each instant
brings ?
When each man's life all imaged life outruns,
What man shall pleasure in imaginings?
So it hath fallen, as it was bound to fall,
We are not, nor we were not, heard at all.
The Vortex
(August 1 9 14)
' Thy Lord spoke by inspiration to the Bee.'
Al Koran.
I have, to my grief and loss, suppressed several
notable stories of my friend, the Hon. A. M.
Penfentenyou,1 once Minister of Woods and
Waysides in De Thouar's first administration ;
later, Premier in all but name of one of Our great
and growing Dominions ; and now, as always, the
idol of his own Province, which is two and one-
half the size of England.
For this reason I hold myself at liberty to
deal with some portion of the truth concerning
Penfentenyou's latest visit to Our shores. He
arrived at my house by car, on a hot summer day,
in a white waistcoat and spats, sweeping black
frock-coat and glistening top-hat — a little rounded,
perhaps, at the edges, but agile as ever in mind
and body.
' What is the trouble now ? ' I asked, for the
last time we had met, Penfentenyou was floating
1 See ' The Puzzler,' Actions and Reactions.
381
382 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
a three-million pound loan for his beloved but
unscrupulous Province, and I did not wish to
entertain any more of his financial friends.
* We,' Penfentenyou replied ambassadorially,
' have come to have a Voice in Your Councils.
By the way, the Voice is coming down on the
evening train with my Agent-General. I thought
you wouldn't mind if I invited 'em. You know
We're going to share Your burdens henceforward.
You'd better get into training.'
'Certainly,' I replied. 'What's the Voice
like ? '
' He's in earnest,' said Penfentenyou. ' He's
got It, and he's got It bad. He'll give It to you,'
he said.
' What's his name ? '
' We call him all sorts of names, but I think
you'd better call him Mr. Lingnam. You won't
have to do it more than once.'
' What's he suffering from ? '
' The Empire. He's pretty nearly cured us all
of Imperialism at home. P'raps he'll cure you.
'Very good. What am I to do with him ? ' •
' Don't you worry,' said Penfentenyou. ' He'll
do it.'
And when Mr. Lingnam appeared half-an-hour"
later with the Agent-General for Penfentenyou's
Dominion, he did just that.
He advanced across the lawn eloquent as all
the tides. He said he had been observing to the
Agent-General that it was both politically immoral
and strategically unsound that forty-four million
people should bear the entire weight of the
THE VORTEX 383
defences of Our mighty Empire, but, as he had
observed (here the Agent-Generai evaporated), we
stood now upon the threshold of a new era in
which the self-governing and self-respecting (bis)
Dominions would rightly and righteously, as co-
partners in Empery, shoulder their share of any
burden which the Pan-Imperial Council of the
Future should allot. The Agent-General was
already arranging for drinks with Penfentenyou
at the other end of the garden. Mr. Lingnam
swept me on to the most remote bench and settled
to his theme.
We dined at eight. At nine Mr. Lingnam
was only drawing abreast of things Imperial. At
ten the Agent-General, who earns his salary, was
shamelessly dozing on the sofa. At eleven he and
Penfentenyou went to bed. At midnight Mr.
Lingnam brought down his big-bellied despatch
box with the newspaper clippings and set to
federating the Empire in earnest. I remember
that he had three alternative plans. As a dealer
in words, I plumped for the resonant third—-
' Reciprocally co-ordinated Senatorial Hegemony '
— which he then elaborated in detail for three-
quarters of an hour. At half-past one he urged
me to have faith and to remember that nothing
mattered except the Idea. Then he retired to his
room, accompanied by one glass of cold water, and
I went into the dawn-lit garden and prayed to
any Power that might be off duty for the blood
of Mr. Lingnam, Penfentenyou, and the Agent-
General.
To me, as I have often observed elsewhere, the
384 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
hour of earliest dawn is fortunate, and the wind
that runs before it has ever been my most com-
fortable counsellor.
' Wait ! ' it said, all among the night's expectant
rosebuds. ' To-morrow is also a day. Wait upon
the Event ! '
I went to bed so at peace with God and Man
and Guest that when I waked I visited Mr.
Lingnam in pyjamas, and he talked to me Pan-
Imperially for half-an-hour before his bath. Later,
the Agent - General said he had letters to write,
and Penfentenyou invented a Cabinet crisis in his
adored Dominion which would keep him busy
with codes and cables all the forenoon. But I
said firmly, ' Mn Lingnam wishes to see a little
of the country round here. You are coming with
us in your own car.'
1 It's a hired one,' Penfentenyou objected.
* Yes. Paid for by me as a taxpayer,' I replied.
' And yours has a top, and the weather looks
thundery,' said the Agent-General. ' Ours hasn't
a wind-screen. Even our goggles were hired.'
' I'll lend you goggles,' I said. ' My car is
under repairs.'
The hireling who had looked to be returned to
London spat and growled on the drive. She was
an open car, capable of some eighteen miles on
the flat, with tetanic gears and a perpetual palsy.
' It won't make the least difference,' sighed the
Agent-General. £ He'll only raise his voice. He
did it all the way coming down.'
' I say;' said Penfentenyou suspiciously, ' what
are you doing all this /or ? '
THE VORTEX 385
* Love of the Empire,' I answered, as Mr.
Lingnam tripped up in dust-coat and binoculars.
* Now, Mr. Lingnam will tell us exactly what he
wants to see. He probably knows more about
England than the rest of us put together.'
* I read it up yesterday,' said Mr. Lingnam
simply. While we stowed the lunch-basket (one
can never make too sure with a hired car) he out-
lined a very pretty and instructive little day's run.
' You'll drive, of course ? ' said Penfentenyou
to him. ' It's the only thing you know anything
about.'
This astonished me, for your greater Federa-
tionists are rarely mechanicians, but Mr. Lingnam
said he would prefer to be inside for the present
and enjoy our conversation.
Well settled on the back seat, he did not once
lift his eyes to the mellow landscape around him,
or throw a word at the life of the English road
which to me is one renewed and unreasoned orgy
of delight. The mustard-coloured scouts of the
Automobile Association ; their natural enemies,
the unjust police ; our natural enemies, the
deliberate market-day cattle, broadside-on at all
corners, the bicycling butcher-boy a furlong
behind ; road-engines that pulled giddy-go-rounds,
rifle galleries, and swings, and sucked snortingly
from wayside ponds in defiance of the notice-
board ; traction-engines, their trailers piled high
with road metal ; uniformed village nurses, one
per seven statute miles, flitting by on their wheels ;
governess-carts full of pink children jogging un-
concernedly past roaring, brazen touring-cars ;
2 c
386 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
the wayside rector with virgins in attendance, their
faces screwed up against our dust ; motor-bicycles
of every shape charging down at every angle ; red
flags of rifle-ranges ; detachments of dusty-
putteed Territorials ; coveys of flagrant children
playing in mid-street, and the wise, educated
English dog safe and quite silent on the pavement
if his fool-mistress would but cease from trying
to save him, passed and repassed us in sunlit or
shaded settings. But Mr. Lingnam only talked.
He talked — we all sat together behind so that we
could not escape him — and he talked above the
worn gears and a certain maddening swish of one
badly patched tire — and he talked of the Federation
of the Empire against all conceivable dangers
except himself. Yet I was neither brutally rude
like Penfentenyou, nor swooningly bored like the
Agent-General. I remembered a certain Joseph
Finsbury who delighted the Tregonwell Arms on
the borders of the New Forest with ' nine ' — it
should have been ten — ' versions of a single income
of two hundred pounds ' placing the imaginary
person in — but. I could not recall the list of towns
further than ' London, Paris, Bagdad, and Spits-
bergen.' This last I must have murmured aloud,
for the Agent-General suddenly became human
and went on : ' Bussoran, Heligoland, and the
Scilly Islands '
1 What ? ' growled Penfentenyou.
1 Nothing,' said the Agent-General, squeezing
my hand affectionately. ' Only we have just
found out that we are brothers.'
* Exactly,' said Mr. Lingnam. ' That's what
THE VORTEX 387
I've been trying to lead up to. We're all
brothers. D'you realise that fifteen years ago
such a conversation as we're having would have
been unthinkable ? The Empire wouldn't have
been ripe for it. To go back, even ten years '
* I've got it,' cried the Agent - General.
'"Brighton, Cincinnati, and Nij ni- Novgorod ! "
God bless R. L. S. ! Go on, Uncle Joseph. I can
endure much now.'
Mr. Lingnam went on like our shandrydan,
slowly and loudly. He admitted that a man
obsessed with a Central Idea — and, after all, the
only thing that mattered was the Idea — might
become a bore, but the World's Work, he pointed
out, had been done by bores. So he laid his bones
down to that work till we abandoned ourselves to
the passage of time and the Mercy of Allah,
Who Alone closes the Mouths of His Prophets.
And we wasted more than fifty miles of summer's
vivid own England upon him the while.
About two o'clock we topped Sumtner Rising
and looked down on the village of Sumtner
Barton, which lies just across a single railway line,
spanned by a red brick bridge. The thick,
thunderous June airs brought us gusts of melody
from a giddy-go-round steam-organ in full blast
near the pond on the village green. Drums, too,
thumped and banners waved and regalia flashed
at the far end of the broad village street. Mr.
Lingnam asked why.
' Nothing Imperial, I'm afraid. It looks like
a Foresters' Fete — one of our big Mutual Benefit
Societies,' I explained.
388 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' The Idea only needs to be co-ordinated to
Imperial scale ' he began.
' But it means that the pub. will be crowded/
I went on.
* What's the matter with lunching by the
roadside here ? ' said Penfentenyou. ' We've got
the lunch-basket.'
' Haven't you ever heard of Sumtner Barton
ales ? ' I demanded, and he became the adminis-
trator at once, saying, ' / see ! Lingnam can
drive us in and we'll get some, while Holford ' —
this was the hireling chauffeur, whose views on
beer we knew not — ' lays out lunch here. That'll
be better than eating at the pub. We can take
in the Foresters' Fete as well, and perhaps I can
buy some newspapers at the station.'
* True,' I answered. c The railway station is
just under that bridge, and we'll come back and
lunch here.'
I indicated a terrace of cool clean shade
beneath kindly beeches at the head of Sumtner
Rise. As Holford got out the lunch-basket, a
detachment of Regular troops on manoeuvres
swung down the baking road.
' Ah ! ' said Mr. Lingnam, the monthly-
magazine roll in his voice. ' All Europe is an
armed camp, groaning, as I remember I once
wrote, under the weight of its accoutrements.'
' Oh, hop in and drive,' cried Penfentenyou.
* We want that beer ! '
It made no difference. Mr. Lingnam could
have federated the Empire from a tight rope. He
continued his oration at the wheel as we trundled.
THE VORTEX 389
' The danger to the Younger Nations is of
being drawn into this vortex of Militarism,' he
went on, dodging the rear of the soldiery.
' Slow past troops,' I hinted. c It saves 'em
dust. And we overtake on the right as a rule in
England.'
i Thanks I ' Mr. Lingnam slued over. ' That's
another detail which needs to be co-ordinated
throughout the Empire. But to go back to what
I was saying. My idea has always been that the
component parts of the Empire should take counsel
among themselves on the approach of war, so that,
after we have decided on the merits of the casus belli,
we can co-ordinate what part each Dominion shall
play whenever war is, unfortunately, a possibility.'
We neared the hog-back railway bridge, and
the hireling knocked piteously at the grade. Mr.
Lingnam changed gears, and she hoisted herself up
to a joyous Toup-i-addy-i-ay ! from the steam-
organ. As we topped the arch we saw a Foresters'
band with banners marching down the street.
* That's all very fine,' said the Agent-General,
1 but in real life things have a knack of happening
without approaching '
(Some schools of Thought hold that Time is
not ; and that when we attain complete enlighten-
ment we shall, behold past, present, and future as
One Awful Whole. I myself have nearly achieved
this.)
We dipped over the bridge into the village. A
boy on a bicycle, loaded with four paper bonnet-
390 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
boxes, pedalled towards us, out of an alley on our
right. He bowed his head the better to overcome
the ascent, and naturally took his left. Mr. Ling-
nam swerved frantically to the right. Penfentenyou
shouted. The boy looked up, saw the car was like
to squeeze him against the bridge wall, flung him-
self off* his machine and across the narrow pave-
ment into the nearest house. He slammed the
door at the precise moment when the car, all brakes
set, bunted the abandoned bicycle, shattering three
of the bonnet-boxes and jerking the fourth over the
unscreened dashboard into Mr. Lingnam's arms.
There was a dead stillness, then a hiss like that
of escaping steam, and a man who had been running
towards us ran the other way.
1 Why ! I think that those must be bees,' said
Mr. Lingnam.
They were — four full swarms — and the first
living objects which he had remarked upon all day.
Some one said, ' Oh, God ! ' The Agent-
General went out over the back of the car, crying
resolutely : ' Stop the traffic ! Stop the traffic,
there ! ' Penfentenyou was already on the pave-
ment ringing a door-bell, so I had both their rugs,
which — for I am an apiarist — I threw over my
head. While I was tucking my trousers into my
socks — for I am an apiarist of experience — Mr.
Lingnam picked up the unexploded bonnet-box
and with a single magnificent gesture (he told us
afterwards he thought there was a river beneath)
hurled it over the parapet of the bridge, ere he
ran across the road toward the village green. Now,
the station platform immediately below was crowded
THE VORTEX 391
with Foresters and their friends waiting to welcome
a delegation from a sister Court. I saw the box
burst on the flint edging of the station garden and
the contents sweep forward cone-wise like shrapnel.
But the result was stimulating rather than sedative.
All those well-dressed people below shouted like
Sodom and Gomorrah. Then they moved as a
unit into the booking-office, the waiting-rooms,
and other places, shut doors and windows and de-
claimed aloud, while the incoming train whistled
far down the line.
I pivoted round cross-legged on the back seat,
like a Circassian beauty beneath her veil, and saw
Penfentenyou, his coat-collar over his ears, dancing
before a shut door and holding up handfuls of
currency to a silver-haired woman at an upper
window, who only mouthed and shook her head.
A little child, carrying a kitten, came smiling
round a corner. Suddenly (but these things moved
me no more than so many yards of threepenny
cinematograph-film) the kitten leaped spitting from
her arms, the child burst into tears, Penfentenyou,
still dancing, snatched her up and tucked her under
his coat, the woman's countenance blanched, the
front door opened, Penfentenyou and the child
pressed through, and I was alone in an inhospit-
able world where every one was shutting windows
and calling children home.
A voice cried : * You've frowtened 'em !
You've frowtened 'em ! Throw dust on 'em and
they'll settle ! '
I did not desire to throw dust on any created
thing. I needed both hands for my draperies and
392 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
two more for my stockings. Besides, the bees
were doing me no hurt. They recognised me as
a member of the County Bee-keepers' Association
who had paid his annual subscription and was en-
titled to a free seat at all apicultural exhibitions.
The quiver and the churn of the hireling car, or
it might have been the lurching banners and the
arrogant big drum, inclined many of them to go
up street, and pay court to the advancing Foresters'
band. So they went, such as had not followed
Mr. Lingnam in his flight toward the green, and
I looked out of two goggled eyes instead of half a
one at the approaching musicians, while I listened
with both ears to the delayed train's second whistle
down the line beneath me.
The Foresters' band no more knew what was
coming than do troops under sudden fire. Indeed,
there were the same extravagant gestures and con-
tortions as attend wounds and deaths in war ; the
very same uncanny cessations of speech — for the
trombone was cut off at midslide, even as a man
drops with a syllable on his tongue. They clawed,
they slapped, they fled, leaving behind them a
trophy of banners and brasses crudely arranged
round the big drum. Then that end of the street
also shut its windows, and the village, stripped of
life, lay round me like a reef at low tide. Though
I am, as I have said, an apiarist in good standing,
I never realised that there were so many bees in
the world. When they had woven a flashing
haze from one end of the desert street to the
other, there remained reserves enough to form
knops and pendules on all window-sills and gutter-
THE VORTEX 393
ends, without diminishing the multitudes in the
three oozing bonnet-boxes, or drawing on the
Fourth (Railway) Battalion in charge of the station
below. The prisoners in the waiting-rooms and
other places there cried out a great deal (I argued
that they were dying of the heat), and at regular
intervals the stationmaster called and called to a
signalman who was not on duty, and the train
whistled as it drew nearer.
Then Penfentenyou, venal and adaptable poli-
tician of the type that survives at the price of all
the higher emotions, appeared at the window of
the house on my right, broken and congested with
mirth, the woman beside him, and the child in
his arms. I saw his mouth open and shut, he
hollowed his hands round it, but the churr of
the motor and the bees drowned his words. He
pointed dramatically across the street many times
and fell back, tears running down his face. I
turned like a hooded barbette in a heavy seaway
(not knowing when my trousers would come out
of my socks again) through one hundred and
eighty degrees, and in due time bore on the village
green. There was a salmon in the pond, rising
short at a cloud of midges to the tune of Tip-i-
addy ; but there was none to gaff him. The
swing-boats were empty, cocoa-nuts sat still on
their red sticks before white screens, and the gay-
painted horses of the giddy-go-rounds revolved
riderless. All was melody, green turf, bright
water, and this greedy gambolling fish. When
I had identified it by its grey gills and binoculars
as Lingnam, I prostrated myself before Allah in
394 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
that mirth which is more truly labour than any
prayer. Then I turned to the purple Penfentenyou
at the window, and wiped my eyes on the rug edge.
He raised the window half one cautious inch
and bellowed through the crack : ' Did you see
him ? Have they got you ? I can see lots of
things from here. It's like a three-ring circus ! '
1 Can you see the station ? ' I replied, nodding
toward the right rear mudguard.
He twisted and craned sideways, but could not
command that beautiful view.
* No ! What's it like ? ' he cried.
i Hell ! ' I shouted. The silvery-haired woman
frowned ; so did Penfentenyou, and, I think,
apologised to her for my language.
' You're always so extreme,' he fluted reproach-
fully. * You forget that nothing matters except
the Idea. Besides, they are this lady's bees.'
He closed the window, and introduced us
through it in dumb show ; but he contrived to
give the impression that / was the specimen under
glass.
A spurt of damp steam saved me from apoplexy.
The train had lost patience at last, and was coming
into the station directly beneath me to see what
was the matter. Happy voices sang and heads
were thrust out all along the compartments, but
none answered their songs or greetings. She
halted, and the people began to get out. Then
they began to get in again, as their friends in
the waiting-rooms advised. All did not catch
the warning, so there was congestion at the doors,
but those whom the bees caught got in first.
THE VORTEX 395
Still the bees, more bent on their own business
than wanton torture, kept to the south end of
the platform by the bookstall, and that was why
the completely exposed engine-driver at the north
end of the train did not at first understand the
hermetically sealed stationmaster when the latter
shouted to him many times to ' get on out o' this.'
' Where are you ? ' was the reply. ' And what
for?'
1 It don't matter where I am, an' you'll get
what-for in a minute if you don't shift,' said the
stationmaster. ' Drop 'em at Parson's Meadow
and they can walk up over the fields.'
That bare-armed, thin-shirted idiot, leaning
out of the cab, took the stationmaster's orders
as an insult to his dignity, and roared at the shut
offices: 'You'll give me what for, will you?
Look 'ere, I'm not in the 'abit of ' His
outstretched hand flew to his neck. . . . Do you
know that if you sting an engine-driver it is
the same as Stinging his train ? She starts with a
jerk that nearly smashes the couplings, and runs,
barking like a dog, till she is out of sight. Nor
does she think about spilled people and parted
families on the platform behind her. I had to
do all that. There was a man called Fred, and
his wife Harriet — a cheery, full-blooded couple —
who interested me immensely before they battered
their way into a small detached building, already
densely occupied. There was also a nameless
bachelor who sat under a half-opened umbrella
and twirled it dizzily, which was so new a game
that I applauded aloud.
396 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
When they had thoroughly cleared the ground,
the bees set about making comb for publication
at the bookstall counter. Presently some bold
hearts tiptoed out of the waiting-rooms over the
loud gravel with the consciously modest air of
men leaving church, climbed the wooden staircase
to the bridge, and so reached my level, where
the inexhaustible bonnet-boxes were still vomiting
squadrons and platoons. There was little need
to bid them descend. They had wrapped their
heads in handkerchiefs, so that they looked like
the disappointed dead scuttling back to Purgatory.
Only one old gentleman, pontifically draped in
a banner embroidered ' Temperance and Fortitude,'
ran the gauntlet up-street, shouting as he passed
me, * It's night or Bliicher, Mister.' They let
him in at the White Hart, the pub. where I
should have bought the beer.
After this the day sagged. I fell to reckoning
how long a man in a Turkish bath, weakened by
excessive laughter, could live without food, and
specially drink ; and how long a disenfranchised
bee could hold out under the same conditions.
Obviously, since her one practical joke costs her
her life, the bee can have but small sense of
humour ; but her fundamentally dismal and un-
gracious outlook on life impressed me beyond
words. She had paralysed locomotion, wiped out
trade, social intercourse, mutual trust, love, friend-
ship, sport, music (the lonely steam-organ had run
down at last), all that gives substance, colour or
savour to life, and yet, in the barren desert she had
created, was not one whit more near to the evolu-
THE VORTEX 397
tion of a saner order of things. The Heavens
were darkened with the swarms' divided counsels ;
the street shimmered with their purposeless sallies.
They clotted on tiles and gutter-pipes, and began
frenziedly to build a cell or two of comb ere they
discovered that their queen was not with them ;
then flung of? to seek her, or whirled, dishevelled
and insane, into another hissing nebula on the
false rumour that she was there. I scowled upon
them with disfavour, and a massy, blue thunder-
head rose majestically from behind the elm-trees
of Sumtner Barton Rectory, arched over and
scowled with me. Then I realised that it was not
bees nor locusts that had darkened the skies, but
the oncoming of the malignant English thunder-
storm— the one thing before which even Deborah
the bee cannot express her silly little self.
1 Aha ! Now you'll catch it,' I said, as the
herald gusts set the big drum rolling down the
street like a box-kite. Up and up yearned the
dark cloud, till the first lightning quivered and
cut. Deborah cowered. Where she flew, there
she fled ; where she was, there she sat still ; and the
solid rain closed in on her as a book that is closed
when the chapter is finished. By the time it had
soaked to my second rug, Penfentenyou appeared
at the window, wiping his false mouth on a napkin.
1 Are you all right ? ' he inquired. ' Then that's
all right ! Mrs. Bellamy says that her bees don't
sting in the wet. You'd better fetch Lingnam
over. He's got to pay for them and the bicycle.'
I had no words which the silver-haired lady
could listen to, but paddled across the flooded
398 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
street between flashes to the pond on the green.
Mr. Lingnam, scarcely visible through the sheeting
downpour, trotted round the edge. He bore
himself nobly, and lied at the mere sight of me.
'Isn't this wet?' he cried. 'It has drenched
me to the skin. I shall need a change.'
' Come along,' I said. ' I don't know what
you'll get, but you deserve more.'
Penfentenyou, dry, fed, and in command, let us
in. * You,' he whispered to me, ' are to wait in the
scullery. Mrs. Bellamy didn't like the way you
talked about her bees. Hsh ! Hsh ! She's a
kind-hearted lady. She's a widow, Lingnam, but
she's kept fas clothes, and as soon as you've paid
for the damage she'll rent you a suit. I've
arranged it all ! '
' Then tell him he mustn't undress in my hall,'
said a voice from the stair-head.
' Tell her ' Lingnam began.
' Come and look at the pretty suit I've chosen,'
Penfentenyou cooed, as one cajoling a maniac.
I staggered out-of-doors again, and fell into the
car, whose ever-running machinery masked my
yelps and hiccups. When I raised my forehead
from the wheel, I saw that traffic through the
village had been resumed, after, as my watch
showed, one and one-half hour's suspension. There
were two limousines, one landau, one doctor's car,
three touring-cars, one patent steam-laundry van,
three tricars, one traction-engine, some motor-
cycles, one with a side-car, and one brewery lorry.
It was the allegory of my own imperturbable
country, delayed for a short time by unforeseen
THE VORTEX 399
external events but now going about her business,
and I blessed Her with tears in my eyes, even
though I knew She looked upon me as drunk and
incapable.
Then troops came over the bridge behind me —
a company of dripping wet Regulars without any
expression. In their rear, carrying the lunch-
basket, marched the Agent-General and Holford
the hired chauffeur.
' I say,' said the Agent-General, nodding at the
darkened khaki backs. ' If that's what we've got
to depend on in event of war they're a broken
reed. They ran like hares — ran like hares, I tell
you."
* And you ? ' I asked.
'Oh, I just sauntered back over the bridge and
stopped the traffic that end. Then I had lunch.
'Pity about the beer, though. I say — these
cushions are sopping wet ! '
' I'm sorry,' I said. ' I haven't had time to
turn 'em.'
' Nor there wasn't any need to 'ave kept the
engine runnin' all this time,' said Holford sternly.
' I'll 'ave to account for the expenditure of petrol.
It exceeds the mileage indicated, you see.'
' I'm sorry,' I repeated. After all, that is the
way that taxpayers regard most crises.
The house-door opened and Penfentenyou and
another came out into the now thinning rain.
1 Ah ! There you both are ! Here's Lingnam,'
he cried. ' He's got a little wet. He's had to
change.'
' We saw that. 1 was too sore and weak to
4oo A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
begin another laugh, but the Agent - General
crumpled up where he stood. The late Mr. Bellamy-
must have been a man of tremendous personality,
which he had impressed on every angle of his
garments. I was told later that he had died in
delirium tremens, which at once explained the
pattern, and the reason why Mr. Lingnam, writhing
inside it, swore so inspiredly. Of the deliberate
and diffuse Federationist there remained no trace,
save the binoculars and two damp whiskers. We
stood on the pavement, before Elemental Man
calling on Elemental Powers to condemn and
incinerate Creation.
' Well, hadn't we better be getting back. ? "
said the Agent-General.
* Look out ! ' I remarked casually. ' Those
bonnet-boxes are full of bees still ! '
* Are they ? ' said the livid Mr. Lingnam, and
tilted them over with the late Mr. Bellamy's
large boots. Deborah rolled out in drenched
lumps into the swilling gutter. There was a
muffled shriek at the window where Mrs. Bellamy
gesticulated.
1 It's all right. I've paid for them,' said
Mr. Lingnam. He dumped out the last dregs
like mould from a pot-bound flower-pot.
* What ? Are you going to take 'em home
with you ? ' said the Agent-General.
* No ! ' He passed a wet hand over his streaky
forehead. ' Wasn't there a bicycle that was the
beginning of this trouble ? ' said he.
' It's under the fore-axle, sir,' said Holford
promptly. ' I can fish it out from 'ere.'
THE VORTEX 401
'Not till I've done with it, please.' Before we
could stop him, he had jumped into the car and
taken charge. The hireling leaped into her
collar, surged, shrieked (less loudly than Mrs.
Bellamy at the window), and swept on. That
which came out behind her was, as Holford truly
observed, no joy-wheel. Mr. Lingnam swung
round the big drum in the market-place and
thundered back, shouting : ' Leave it alone. It's
my meat ! '
1 Mince-meat, 'e means,' said Holford after this
second trituration. 'You couldn't say now it
'ad ever been one, could you ? '
Mrs. Bellamy opened the window and spoke.
It appears she had only charged for damage to the
bicycle, not for the entire machine which Mr.
Lingnam was ruthlessly gleaning, spoke by spoke,
from the highway and cramming into the slack of
the hood. At last he answered, and I have never
seen a man foam at the mouth before. * If you
don't stop, I shall come into your house — in this
car — and drive upstairs and — kill you ! '
She stopped ; he stopped. Holford took the
wheel, and we got away. It was time, for the
sun shone after the storm, and Deborah beneath
the tiles and the eaves already felt its reviving
influence compel her to her interrupted labours of
federation. We warned the village policeman at
the far end of the street that he might have to
suspend traffic again. The proprietor of the
giddy-go-round, swings, and cocoanut-shies wanted
to know from whom, in this world or another, he
could recover damages. Mr. Lingnam referred
2 D
4o2 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
him most directly to Mrs. Bellamy .... Then
we went home.
After dinner that evening Mr. Lingnam rose
stiffly in his place to make a few remarks on
the Federation of the Empire on the lines of Co-
ordinated, Offensive Operations, backed by the
Entire Effective Forces, Moral, Military and
Fiscal, of Permanently Mobilised Communities,
the whole brought to bear, without any respect to
the merits of any casus belli, instantaneously, auto-
matically, and remorselessly at the first faint buzz
of war.
* The trouble with Us,' said he, * is that We
take such an infernally long time making sure that
We are right that We don't go ahead when things
happen. For instance, / ought to have gone
ahead instead of pulling up when I hit that
bicycle.'
' But you were in the wrong, Lingnam, when
you turned to the right,' I put in.
1 1 don't want to hear any more of your
damned, detached, mugwumping excuses for the
other fellow,' he snapped.
' Now you're beginning to see things,' said
Penfentenyou. ' I hope you won't backslide
when the swellings go down.'
THE SONG OF SEVEN CITIES
I was Lord of Cities very sumptuously builded.
Seven roaring Cities paid me tribute from afar.
Ivory their outposts were — the guardrooms of
them gilded,
And garrisoned with Amazons invincible in war.
All the world went softly when it walked before
my Cities —
Neither King nor Army vexed my peoples at
their toil.
Never horse nor chariot irked or overbore my
Cities,
Never Mob nor Ruler questioned whence they
drew their spoil.
Banded, mailed and arrogant from sunrise unto
sunset,
Singing while they sacked it, they possessed the
land at large.
Yet when men would rob them, they resisted,
they made onset
And pierced the smoke of battle with a thousand-
sabred charge !
403
4o4 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
So they warred and trafficked only yesterday, my
Cities.
To-day there is no mark or mound of where my
Cities stood.
For the River rose at midnight and it washed
away my Cities.
They are evened with Atlantis and the towns
before the Flood.
Rain on rain-gorged channels raised the water-
levels round them,
Freshet backed on freshet swelled and swept their
world from sight,
Till the emboldened floods linked arms and flashing
forward drowned them —
Drowned my Seven Cities and their peoples in one
night !
Low among the alders lie their derelict foundations,
The beams wherein they trusted and the plinths
whereon they built —
My rulers and their treasure and their unborn
populations,
Dead, destroyed, aborted, and defiled with mud
and silt !
The Daughters of the Palace whom they cherished
in my Cities,
My silver-tongued Princesses, and the promise of
their May —
Their bridegrooms of the June-tide — all have
perished in my Cities,
With the harsh envenomed virgins that can neither
love nor play.
THE SONG OF SEVEN CITIES 405
I was Lord of Cities — I will build anew my Cities,
Seven, set on rocks, above the wrath of any flood.
Nor will I rest from search till I have filled anew
my Cities
With peoples undefeated of the dark, enduring
blood.
To the sound of trumpets shall their seed restore
my Cities
Wealthy and well-weaponed, that once more may
I behold
All the world go softly when it walks before my
Cities,
And the horses and the chariots fleeing from them
as of old !
£ Swept and Garnished '
(January 191 5)
When the first waves of feverish cold stole over
Frau Ebermann she very wisely telephoned for
the doctor and went to bed. He diagnosed the
attack as mild influenza, prescribed the appropriate
remedies, and left her to the care of her one
servant in her comfortable Berlin flat. Frau
Ebermann, beneath the thick coverlet, curled up
with what patience she could until the aspirin
should begin to act, and Anna should come back
from the chemist with the formamint, the
ammoniated quinine, the eucalyptus, and the little
tin steam- inhaler. Meantime, every bone in her
body ached ; her head throbbed ; her hot, dry
hands would not stay the same size for a minute
together ; and her body, tucked into the smallest
possible compass, shrank from the chill of the
well-warmed sheets.
Of a sudden she noticed that an imitation-lace
cover which should have lain mathematically
square with the imitation - marble top of the
radiator behind the green plush sofa had slipped
407
4o8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
away so that one corner hung over the bronze-
painted steam pipes. She recalled that she must
have rested her poor head against the radiator-top
while she was taking off her boots. She tried to
get up and set the thing straight, but the radiator
at once receded toward the horizon, which, unlike
true horizons, slanted diagonally, exactly parallel
with the dropped lace edge of the cover. Frau
Ebermann groaned through sticky lips and lay still.
' Certainly, I have a temperature,' she said.
' Certainly, I have a grave temperature. I should
have been warned by that chill after dinner.'
She resolved to shut her hot-lidded eyes, but
opened them in a little while to torture herself
with the knowledge of that ungeometrical thing
against the far wall. Then she saw a child — an
untidy, thin-faced little girl of about ten, who
must have strayed in from the adjoining flat. This
proved — Frau Ebermann groaned again at the
way the world falls to bits when one is sick —
proved that Anna had forgotten to shut the outer
door of the flat when she went to the chemist.
Frau Ebermann had had children of her own, but
they were all grown up now, and she had never
been a child-lover in any sense. Yet the intruder
might be made to serve her scheme of things.
'Make — put,' she muttered thickly, 'that
white thing straight on the top of that yellow
thing.'
The child paid no attention, but moved about
the room, investigating everything that came in
her way — - the yellow cut-glass handles of the
chest of drawers, the stamped bronze hook to
'SWEPT AND GARNISHED' 409
hold back the heavy puce curtains, and the mauve
enamel, New Art finger-plates on the door. Frau
Ebermann watched indignantly.
' Aie ! That is bad and rude. Go away ! '
she cried, though it hurt her to raise her voice.
' Go away by the road you came ! ' The child
passed behind the bed-foot, where she could not
see her. ' Shut the door as you go. I will speak
to Anna, but — first, put that white thing straight.'
She closed her eyes in misery of body and soul.
The outer door clicked, and Anna entered, very
penitent that she had stayed so long at the
chemist's. But it had been difficult to find the
proper type of inhaler, and
' Where did the child go ? ' moaned Frau
Ebermann — ' the child that was here ? '
' There was no child,' said startled Anna.
' How should any child come in when I shut the
door behind me after I go out ? All the keys of
the flats are different.'
1 No, no ! You forgot this time. But my back
is aching, and up my legs also. Besides, who
knows what it may have fingered and upset?
Look and see.'
' Nothing is fingered, nothing is upset,' Anna
replied, as she took the inhaler from its paper box.
4 Yes, there is. Now I remember all about it.
Put — put that white thing, with the open edge —
the lace, I mean — quite straight on that ' she
pointed. Anna, accustomed to her ways, under-
stood and went to it.
' Now, is it quite straight ? ' Frau Ebermann
demanded.
4io A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Perfectly,' said Anna. ' In fact, in the very
centre of the radiator.' Anna measured the equal
margins with her knuckle, as she had been told to
do when she first took service.
' And my tortoise-shell hair brushes ? ' Frau
Ebermann could not command her dressing-table
from where she lay.
* Perfectly straight, side by side in the big tray,
and the comb laid across them. Your watch also
in the coralline watch - holder. Everything ' —
she moved round the room to make sure — ' every-
thing is as you have it when you are well.' Frau
Ebermann sighed with relief. It seemed to her
that the room and her head had suddenly grown
cooler.
' Good ! ' said she. ' Now warm my nightgown
in the kitchen, so it will be ready when I have
perspired. And the towels also. Make the inhaler
steam, and put in the eucalyptus ; that is good
for the larynx. Then sit you in the kitchen, and
come when I ring. But, first, my hot-water bottle.'
It was brought and scientifically tucked in.
' What news ? ' said Frau Ebermann drowsily.
She had not been out that day.
' Another victory,' said Anna. * Many more
prisoners and guns.'
Frau Ebermann purred, one might almost
say grunted, contentedly.
' That is good too,' she said ; and Anna, after
lighting the inhaler-lamp, went out.
Frau, Ebermann reflected that in an hour or so
the aspirin would begin to work, and all would be
well. To-morrow — no, the day after — she would
'SWEPT AND GARNISHED' 411
take up life with something to talk over with her
friends at coffee. It was rare — every one knew it
— that she should be overcome by any ailment.
Yet in all her distresses she had not allowed the
minutest deviation from daily routine and ritual.
She would tell her friends — she ran over their
names one by one — exactly what measures she
had taken against the lace cover on the radiator-
top and in regard to her two tortoise-shell hair-
brushes and the comb at right angles. How she
had set everything in order — everything in order.
She roved further afield as she wriggled her toes
luxuriously on the hot-water bottle. If it pleased
our dear God to take her to Himself, and she
was not so young as she had been — there was that
plate of the four lower ones in the blue tooth-glass,
for instance — He should find all her belongings
fit to meet His eye. ' Swept and garnished ' were
the words that shaped themselves in her intent
brain. ' Swept and garnished for '
No, it was certainly not for the dear Lord that
she had swept ; she would have her room swept
out to-morrow or the day after, and garnished.
Her hands began to swell again into huge pillows
of nothingness. Then they shrank, and so did
her head, to minute dots. It occurred to her that
she was waiting for some event, some tremendously
important event, to come to pass. She lay with
shut eyes for a long time till her head and hands
should return to their proper size.
She opened her eyes with a jerk.
' How stupid of me,' she said aloud, ' to set the
room in order for a parcel of dirty little children ! '
4i2 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
They were there — five of them, two little boys
and three girls — headed by the anxious-eyed ten-
year-old whom she had seen before. They must
have entered by the outer door, which Anna had
neglected to shut behind her when she returned
with the inhaler. She counted them backward
and forward as one counts scales — one, two, three,
four, five.
They took no notice of her,. but hung about,
first on one foot then on the other, like strayed
chickens, the smaller ones holding by the larger.
They had the air of utterly wearied passengers in
a railway waiting-room, and their clothes were
disgracefully dirty.
' Go away ! ' cried Frau Ebermann at last, after
she had struggled, it seemed to her, for years to
shape the words.
1 You called ? ' said Anna at the living-room
door.
' No,' said her mistress. ' Did you shut the
flat door when you came in ? '
* Assuredly,' said Anna. ' Besides, it is made
to catch shut of itself.'
* Then go away,' said she, very little above a
whisper. If Anna pretended not to see the
children, she would speak to Anna later on.
* And now,' she said, turning toward them as
soon as the door closed. The smallest of the
crowd smiled at her, and shook his head before he
buried it in his sister's skirts.
' Why — don't — you — go — away ? ' she
whispered earnestly.
Again they took no notice, but, guided by the
'SWEPT AND GARNISHED' 413
elder girl, set themselves to climb, boots and all,
on to the green plush sofa in front of the radiator.
The little boys had to be pushed, as they could
not compass the stretch unaided. They settled
themselves in a row, with small gasps of relief,
and pawed the plush approvingly.
' I ask you — I ask you why do you not go
away — why do you not go away ? ' Frau Eber-
mann found herself repeating the question twenty
times. It seemed to her that everything in the
world hung on the answer. ' You know you
should not come into houses and rooms unless
you are invited. Not houses and bedrooms, you
know.'
' No,' a solemn little six-year-old repeated,
' not houses nor bedrooms, nor dining-rooms, nor
churches, nor all those places. Shouldn't come in.
It's rude.'
'Yes, he said so,' the younger girl put in
proudly. ' He said it. He told them only pigs
would do that.' The line nodded and dimpled
one to another with little explosive giggles, such
as children use when they tell deeds of great daring
against their elders.
' If you know it is wrong, that makes it much
worse,' said Frau Ebermann.
1 Oh yes ; much worse,' they assented cheer-
fully, till the smallest boy changed his smile to a
baby wail of weariness.
' When will they come for us ? ' he asked, and
the girl at the head of the row hauled him bodily
into her square little capable lap.
1 He's tired,' she explained. ' He is only four.
4H A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
He only had his first breeches this spring.' They
came almost under his armpits, and were held up
by broad linen braces, which, his sorrow diverted
for the moment, he patted proudly.
' Yes, beautiful, dear,' said both girls.
' Go away ! ' said Frau Ebermann. ' Go home
to your father and mother ! '
Their faces grew grave at once.
' H'sh ! We canty whispered the eldest.
* There isn't anything left.'
* All gone,' a boy echoed, and he puffed
through pursed lips. ' Like that, uncle told me.
Both cows too.'
* And my own three ducks,' the boy on the
girl's lap said sleepily.
' So, you see, we came here.' The elder girl
leaned forward a little, caressing the child she rocked.
' I — I don't understand,' said Frau Ebermann.
' Are you lost, then ? You must tell our police.'
' Oh no ; we are only waiting.'
' But what are you waiting for ? '
' We are waiting for our people to come for
us. They told us to come here and wait for them.
So we are waiting till they come,' the eldest girl
replied.
' Yes. We are waiting till our people come
for us,' said all the others in chorus.
' But,' said Frau Ebermann very patiently —
' but now tell me, for I tell you that I am not in
the least angry, where do you come from ? Where
do you pome from ? '
The five gave the names of two villages of
which she had read in the papers.
SWEPT AND GARNISHED'
4i5
1 That is silly,' said Frau Ebermann. ' The
people fired on us, and they were punished.
Those places are wiped out. stamped flat.'
' Yes, yes, wiped out, stamped flat. That is
why and — I have lost the ribbon off my pigtail,'
said the younger girl. She looked behind her
over the sofa-back.
' It is not here,' said the elder. ' It was lost
before. Don't you remember ? '
' Now, if you are lost, you must go and tell
our police. They will take care of you and give
you food,' said Frau Ebermann. ' Anna will
show you the way there.'
' No,' — this was the six-year-old with the
smile, — ' we must wait here till our people come
for us. Mustn't we, sister ? '
' Of course. We wait here till our people come
for us. All the world knows that,' said the eldest
girl.
' Yes.' The boy in her lap had waked again.
c Little children, too — as little as Henri, and he
doesn't wear trousers yet. As little as all that.'
'I don't understand,' said Frau Ebermann,
shivering. In spite of the heat of the room and
the damp breath of the steam-inhaler, the aspirin
was not doing its duty.
The girl raised her blue eyes and looked at
the woman for an instant.
• You see,' she said, emphasising her statements
with her fingers, ' they told us to wait here till our
people came for us. So we came. We wait till
our people come for us.'
' That is silly again,' said Frau Ebermann. l It
4i 6 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
is no good for you to wait here. Do you know
what this place is ? You have been to school r
It is Berlin, the capital of Germany.'
4 Yes, yes,' they all cried ; ' Berlin, capital of
Germany. We know that. That is why we came.'
'So, you see, it is no good,' she said triumphantly,
' because your people can never come for you here.'
1 They told us to come here and wait till our
people came for us.' They delivered this as if
it were a lesson in school. Then they sat still,
their hands orderly folded on their laps, smiling
as sweetly as ever.
' Go away ! Go away ! ' Frau Ebermann
shrieked.
' You called ? ' said Anna, entering.
' No. Go away ! Go away ! '
' Very good, old cat,' said the maid under her
breath. • Next time you may call,' and she re-
turned to her friend in the kitchen.
c I ask you — ask you, please to go away,' Frau
Ebermann pleaded. ' Go to my Anna through
that door, and she will give you cakes and sweeties.
It is not kind of you to come into my room and
behave so badly.'
' Where else shall we go now ? ' the elder girl
demanded, turning to her little company. They
fell into discussion. One preferred the broad
street with trees, another the railway station ; but
when she suggested an Emperor's palace, they
agreed with her.
' We will go then,' she said, and added half
apologetically to Frau Ebermann, * You see, they
are so little they like to meet all the others.'
4 SWEPT AND GARNISHED' 417
' What others ? ' said Frau Ebermann.
' The others — hundreds and hundreds and
thousands and thousands of the others.'
' That is a lie. There cannot be a hundred
even, much less a thousand,' cried Frau Ebermann.
* So ? ' said the girl politely.
* Yes. / tell you ; and I have very good
information. I know how it happened. You
should have been more careful. You should not
have run out to see the horses and guns passing.
That is how it is done when our troops pass
through. My son has written me so.'
They had clambered down from the sofa, and
gathered round the bed with eager, interested eyes.
' Horses and guns going by — how fine ! ' some
one whispered.
' Yes, yes ; believe me, that is how the accidents
to the children happen. You must know yourself
that it is true. One runs out to look '
' But I never saw any at all,' a boy cried sorrow-
fully. 'Only one noise I heard. That was when
Aunt Emmeline's house fell down.'
'But listen to me. / am telling you! One
runs out to look, because one is little and cannot
see well. So one peeps between the man's legs,
and then — you know how close those big horses
and guns turn the corners — then one's foot slips
and one gets run over. That's how it happens.
Several times it had happened, but not many times ;
certainly not a hundred, perhaps not twenty. So,
you see, you must be all. Tell me now that you
are all that there are, and Anna shall give you the
cakes.'
2 E
4i 8 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Thousands,' a boy repeated monotonously.
c Then we all come here to wait till our people
come for us.'
* But now we will go away from here. The
poor lady is tired,' said the elder girl, plucking his
sleeve.
' Oh, you hurt, you hurt ! ' he cried, and burst
into tears.
' What is that for ? ' said Frau Ebermann.
' To cry in a room where a poor lady is sick, is
very inconsiderate.'
* Oh, but look, lady ! ' said the elder girl.
Frau Ebermann looked and saw.
* Au revoir, lady.' They made their little
smiling bows and curtseys undisturbed by her loud
cries. ' Au revoir> lady. We will wait till our
people come for us.'
When Anna at last ran in, she found her
mistress on her knees, busily cleaning the floor
with the lace cover from the radiator, because, she
explained, it was all spotted with the blood of five
children — she was perfectly certain there could
not be more than five in the whole world — who
had gone away for the moment, but were now
waiting round the corner, and Anna was to find
them and give them cakes to stop the bleeding,
while her mistress swept and garnished that Our
dear Lord when He came might find everything
as it should be.
Mary Postgate
(1915)
Of Miss Mary Postgate, Lady McCausland wrote
that she was * thoroughly conscientious, tidy,
companionable, and ladylike. I am very sorry to
part with her, and shall always be interested in
her welfare.'
Miss Fowler engaged her on this recommenda-
tion, and to her surprise, for she had had experience
of companions, found that it was true. Miss
Fowler was nearer sixty than fifty at the time, but
though she needed care she did not exhaust her
attendant's vitality. On the contrary, she gave
out, stimulatingly and with reminiscences. Her
father had been a minor Court official in the days
when the Great Exhibition of 1851 had just set its
seal on Civilisation made perfect. Some of Miss
Fowler's tales, none the less, were not always for
the young. Mary was not young, and though her
speech was as colourless as her eyes or her hair,
she was never shocked. She listened unflinchingly
to every one ; said at the end, ' How interesting ! '
or ' How shocking ! ' as the case might be, and
419
42o A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
never again referred to it, for she prided herself
on a trained mind, which ' did not dwell on these
things.' She was, too, a treasure at domestic
accounts, for which the village tradesmen, with
their weekly books, loved her not. Otherwise
she had no enemies ; provoked no jealousy even
among the plainest ; neither gossip nor slander
had ever been traced to her ; she supplied the
odd place at the Rector's or the Doctor's table
at half an hour's notice ; she was a sort of
public aunt to very many small children of the
village street, whose parents, while accepting
everything, would have been swift to resent
what they called ' patronage ' ; she served on the
Village Nursing Committee as Miss Fowler's
nominee when Miss Fowler was crippled by
rheumatoid arthritis, and came out of six months'
fortnightly meetings equally respected by all the
cliques.
And when Fate threw Miss Fowler's nephew,
an unlovely orphan of eleven, on Miss Fowler's
hands, Mary Postgate stood to her share of the
business of education as practised in private and
public schools. She checked printed clothes-lists,
and unitemised bills of extras ; wrote to Head and
House masters, matrons, nurses and doctors, and
grieved or rejoiced over half-term reports. Young
Wyndham Fowler repaid her in his holidays by
calling her ' Gatepost,' * Postey,' or ' Packthread,'
by thumping her between her narrow shoulders, or
by chasing her bleating, round the garden, her
large mouth open, her large nose high in air, at a
stiff-necked shamble very like a camel's. Later
MARY POSTGATE 421
on he filled the house with clamour, argument,
and harangues as to his personal needs, likes and
dislikes, and the limitations of ' you women,'
reducing Mary to tears of physical fatigue, or,
when he chose to be humorous, of helpless laughter.
At crises, which multiplied as he grew older, she
was his ambassadress and his interpretress to Miss
Fowler, who had no large sympathy with the
young ; a vote in his interest at the councils on
his future ; his sewing-woman, strictly accountable
for mislaid boots and garments ; always his butt
and his slave.
And when he decided to become a solicitor,
and had entered an office in London ; when his
greeting had changed from ' Hullo, Postey, you
old beast,' to ' Mornin', Packthread,' there came a
war which, unlike all wars that Mary could re-
member, did not stay decently outside England
and in the newspapers, but intruded on the lives
of people whom she knew. As she said to Miss
Fowler, it was ' most vexatious.' It took the
Rector's son who was going into business with his
elder brother ; it took the Colonel's nephew on
the eve of fruit-farming in Canada ; it took Mrs.
Grant's son who, his mother said, was devoted to
the ministry ; and, very early indeed, it took
Wynn Fowler, who announced on a postcard that
he had joined the Flying Corps and wanted a
cardigan waistcoat.
* He must go, and he must have the waistcoat,'
said Miss Fowler. So Mary got the proper-sized
needles and wool, while Miss Fowler told the men
of her establishment — two gardeners and an odd
422 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
man, aged sixty — that those who could join the
Army had better do so. The gardeners left.
Cheape, the odd man, stayed on, and was promoted
to the gardener's cottage. The cook, scorning to
be limited in luxuries, also left, after a spirited
scene with Miss Fowler, and took the housemaid
with her. Miss Fowler gazetted Nellie, Cheape's
seventeen-year-old daughter, to the vacant post ;
Mrs. Cheape to the rank of cook, with occasional
cleaning bouts ; and the reduced establishment
moved forward smoothly.
Wynn demanded an increase in his allowance.
Miss Fowler, who always looked facts in the face,
said, ' He must have it. The chances are he
won't live long to draw it, and if three hundred
makes him happy '
Wynn was grateful, and came over, in his
tight-buttoned uniform, to say so. His training
centre was not thirty miles away, and his talk was
so technical that it had to be explained by charts
of the various types of machines. He gave Mary
such a chart.
'And you'd better study it, Postey,' he said.
' You'll be seeing a lot of 'em soon.' So Mary
studied the chart, but when Wynn next arrived to
swell and exalt himself before his womenfolk, she
failed badly in cross-examination, and he rated her
as in the old days.
1 You look more or less like a human being,' he
said in his new Service voice. c You must have
had a brain at some time in your past. What
have you done with it ? Where d'you keep it ?
A sheep would know more than you do, Postey.
MARY POSTGATE 423
You're lamentable. You are less use than an
empty tin can, you dowey old cassowary.'
c I suppose that's how your superior officer talks
to you ?' said Miss Fowler from her chair.
' But Postey doesn't mind,' Wynn replied.
' Do you, Packthread ? '
* Why ? Was Wynn saying anything ? I
shall get this right next time you come,' she mut-
tered, and knitted her pale brows again over the
diagrams of Taubes, Farmans, and Zeppelins.
In a few weeks the mere land and sea battles
which she read to Miss Fowler after breakfast
passed her like idle breath. Her heart and her
interest were high in the air with Wynn, who had
finished ' rolling ' (whatever that might be) and
had gone on from a ' taxi ' to a machine more or
less his own. One morning it circled over their
very chimneys, alighted on Vegg's Heath, almost
outside the garden gate, and Wynn came in, blue
with cold, shouting for food. He and she drew
Miss Fowler's bath-chair, as they had often done,
along the Heath foot-path to look at the biplane.
Mary observed that ' it smelt very badly.'
* Postey, I believe you think with your nose,'
said Wynn. ' I know you don't with your mind.
Now, what type's that ? '
' I'll go and get the chart,' said Mary.
* You're hopeless ! You haven't the mental
capacity of a white mouse,' he cried, and explained
the dials and the sockets for bomb-dropping till it
was time to mount and ride the wet clouds once
more.
' Ah ! ' said Mary, as the stinking thing flared
424 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
upward. ' Wait till our Flying Corps gets to
work ! Wynn says it's much safer than in the
trenches.'
' I wonder,' said Miss Fowler. ' Tell Cheape
to come and tow me home again.'
' It's all downhill. I can do it,' said Mary,
' if you put the brake on.' She laid her lean
self against the pushing- bar and home they
trundled.
' Now, be careful you aren't heated and catch
a chill,' said overdressed Miss Fowler.
' Nothing makes me perspire,' said Mary. As
she bumped the chair under the porch she
straightened her long back. The exertion had
given her a colour, and the wind had loosened
a wisp of hair across her forehead. Miss Fowler
glanced at her.
' What do you ever think of, Mary ? ' she
demanded suddenly.
' Oh, Wynn says he wants another three pairs
of stockings — as thick as we can make them.'
' Yes. But I mean the things that women
think about. Here you are, more than
forty '
' Forty-four,' said truthful Mary.
' Well ?
' Well ? ' Mary offered Miss Fowler her
shoulder as usual.
'And you've been with me ten years now.'
' Let's see,' said Mary. ' Wynn was eleven
when he- came. He's twenty now, and I came
two years before that. It must be eleven.'
* Eleven ! And you've never told me anything
MARY POSTGATE 425
that matters in all that while. Looking back, it
seems to me that /'ve done all the talking.'
' I'm afraid I'm not much of a conversationalist.
As Wynn says, I haven't the mind. Let me take
your hat.'
Miss Fowler, moving stiffly from the hip,
stamped her rubber-tipped stick on the tiled
hall floor. ' Mary, aren't you anything except a
companion ? Would you ever have been anything
except a companion ? '
Mary hung up the garden hat on its proper
peg. ' No,' she said after consideration. * I don't
imagine I ever should. But I've no imagination,
I'm afraid.'
She fetched Miss Fowler her eleven -o'clock
glass of Contrexeville0
That was the wet December when it rained six
inches to the month, and the women went abroad
as little as might be. Wynn's flying chariot
visited them several times, and for two mornings
(he had warned her by postcard) Mary heard the
thresh of his propellers at dawn. The second time
she ran to the window, and stared at the whiten-
ing sky. A little blur passed overhead. She
lifted her lean arms towards it.
That evening at six o'clock there came an
announcement in an official envelope that Second
Lieutenant W. Fowler had been killed during a
trial flight. Death was instantaneous. She read
it and carried it to Miss Fowler.
' I never expected anything else,' said Miss
Fowler ; ' but I'm sorry it happened before he
had done anything.'
426 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
The room was whirling round Mary Postgate,
but she found herself quite steady in the midst of it.
' Yes,' she said. ' It's a great pity he didn't
die in action after he had killed somebody.'
' He was killed instantly. That's one comfort,'
Miss Fowler went on.
' But Wynn says the shock of a fall kills a man
at once — whatever happens to the tanks,' quoted
Mary.
The room was coming to rest now. She heard
Miss Fowler say impatiently, ' But why can't
we cry, Mary ? ' and herself replying, ' There's
nothing to cry for. He has done his duty as much
as Mrs. Grant's son did.'
c And when he died, she came and cried all the
morning,' said Miss Fowler. ' This only makes
me feel tired — terribly tired. Will you help me
to bed, please, Mary ? — And I think I'd like the
hot-water bottle.'
So Mary helped her and sat beside, talking of
Wynn in his riotous youth.
' I believe,' said Miss Fowler suddenly, c that
old people and. young people slip from under a
stroke like this. The middle-aged feel it most.'
' I expect that's true,' said Mary, rising. ' I'm
going to put away the things in his room now.
Shall we wear mourning ? '
' Certainly not,' said Miss Fowler. • Except, of
course, at the funeral. I can't go. You will. I
want you to arrange about his being buried here.
What a blessing it didn't happen at Salisbury ! '
Every one, from the Authorities of the Flying
Corps to the Rector, was most kind and sympathetic.
MARY POSTGATE 427
Mary found herself for the moment in a world
where bodies were in the habit of being despatched
by all sorts of conveyances to all sorts of places.
And at the funeral two young men in buttoned-up
uniforms stood beside the grave and spoke to her
afterwards.
* You're Miss Postgate, aren't you ? ' said one.
' Fowler told me about you. He was a good
chap — a first-class fellow — a great loss.'
' Great loss ! ' growled his companion. ' We're
all awfully sorry.'
* How high did he fall from ? ' Mary whispered.
* Pretty nearly four thousand feet, I should think,
didn't he ? You were up that day, Monkey ? '
' All of that,' the other child replied. ' My bar
made three thousand, and I wasn't as high as him
by a lot.'
1 Then that' s all right,' said Mary. ' Thank
you very much.'
They moved away as Mrs. Grant flung herself
weeping on Mary's flat chest, under the lych-gate,
and cried, * / know how it feels ! I know how
it feels ! '
' But both his parents are dead,' Mary returned,
as she fended her off. * Perhaps they've all met
by now,' she added vaguely as she escaped towards
the coach.
* I've thought of that too,' wailed Mrs. Grant ;
' but then he'll be practically a stranger to them.
Quite embarrassing ! '
Mary faithfully reported every detail of
the ceremony to Miss Fowler, who, when she
described Mrs. Grant's outburst, laughed aloud.
428 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
' Oh, how Wynn would have enjoyed it ! He
was always utterly unreliable at funerals. D'you
remember ' And they talked of him again,
each piecing out the other's gaps. ' And now,'
said Miss Fowler, ' we'll pull up the blinds and
we'll have a general tidy. That always does us
good. Have you seen to Wynn's things ? '
' Everything — since he first came,' said Mary.
' He was never destructive — even with his toys.'
They faced that neat room.
' It can't be natural not to cry,' Mary said
at last. ' I'm so afraid you'll have a reaction.'
'As I told you, we old people slip from under
the stroke. It's you I'm afraid for. Have you
cried yet ? '
' I can't. It only makes me angry with the
Germans.'
1 That's sheer waste of vitality,' said Miss
Fowler. ' We must live till the war's finished.'
She opened a full wardrobe. ' Now, I've been
thinking things over. This is my plan. All his
civilian clothes can be given away — Belgian refugees,
and so on.'
Mary nodded. ' Boots, collars, and gloves ? '
* Yes. We don't need to keep anything except
his cap and belt.'
* They came back yesterday with his Flying
Corps clothes ' — Mary pointed to a roll on the
little iron bed.
* Ah, but keep his Service things. Some one
may be glad of them later. Do you remember
his sizes ? '
* Five feet eight and a half ; thirty-six inches
MARY POSTGATE 429
round the chest. But he told me he's just put on
an inch and a half. I'll mark it on a label and tie
it on his sleeping-bag.'
' So that disposes of that,' said Miss Fowler,
tapping the palm of one hand with the ringed
third finger of the other. * What waste it all is !
We'll get his old school trunk to-morrow and
pack his civilian clothes.'
' And the rest ? ' said Mary. ' His books and
pictures and the games and the toys — and — and
the rest ? '
1 My plan is to burn every single thing,' said
Miss Fowler. ' Then we shall know where they
are and no one can handle them afterwards. What
do you think ? '
1 i think that would be much the best,' said
Mary. ' But there's such a lot of them.'
' We'll burn them in the destructor,' said Miss
Fowler.
This was an open-air furnace for the consump-
tion of refuse ; a little circular four-foot tower of
pierced brick over an iron grating. Miss Fowler
had noticed the design in a gardening journal
years ago, and had had it built at the bottom of
the garden. It suited her tidy soul, for it saved
unsightly rubbish-heaps, and the ashes lightened
the stiff clay soil.
Mary considered for a moment, saw her
way clear, and nodded again. They spent the
evening putting away well-remembered civilian
suits, underclothes that Mary had marked, and
the regiments of very gaudy socks and ties. A
second trunk was needed, and, after that, a little
43Q A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
packing-case, and it was late next day when
Cheape and the local carrier lifted them to the
cart. The Rector luckily knew of a friend's son,
about five feet eight and a half inches high, to
whom a complete Flying Corps outfit would be
most acceptable, and sent his gardener's son down
with a barrow to take delivery of it. The cap
was hung up in Miss Fowler's bedroom, the belt
in Miss Postgate's ; for, as Miss Fowler said, they
had no desire to make tea-party talk of them.
1 That disposes of that, said Miss Fowler.
' I'll leave the rest to you, Mary. I can't run
up and down the garden. You'd better take the
big clothes-basket and get Nellie to help you.'
' I shall take the wheel -barrow and do it
myself,' said Mary, and for once in her life closed
her mouth.
Miss Fowler, in moments of irritation, had
called Mary deadly methodical. She put on her
oldest waterproof and gardening-hat and her ever-
slipping goloshes, for the weather was on the
edge of more rain. She gathered fire-lighters
from the kitchen, a half- scuttle of coals, and a
faggot of brushwood. These she wheeled in the
barrow down the mossed paths to the dank little
laurel shrubbery where the destructor stood under
the drip of three oaks. She climbed the wire fence
into the Rector's glebe just behind, and from his
tenant's rick pulled two large armfuls of good
hay, which she spread neatly on the fire-bars.
Next, journey by journey, passing Miss Fowler's
white face at the morning-room window each
time, she brought down in the towel-covered
MARY POSTGATE 431
clothes-basket, on the wheelbarrow, thumbed and
used Hentys, Marryats, Levers, Stevensons,
Baroness Orczys, Garvices, schoolbooks, and
atlases, unrelated piles of the Motor Cyclist, the
Light Car, and catalogues of Olympia Exhibitions ;
the remnants of a fleet of sailing-ships from nine-
penny cutters to a three-guinea yacht ; a prep.-
school dressing-gown ; bats from three-and-sixpence
to twenty-four shillings ; cricket and tennis balls ;
disintegrated steam and clockwork locomotives
with their twisted rails ; a grey and red tin model
of a submarine ; a dumb gramophone and cracked
records ; golf-clubs that had to be broken across
the knee, like his walking-sticks, and an assegai ;
photographs of private and public school cricket
and football elevens, and his O.T.C. on the line
of march ; kodaks, and film-rolls ; some pewters,
and one real silver cup, for boxing competitions
and Junior Hurdles ; sheaves of school photo-
graphs ; Miss Fowler's photograph ; her own
which he had borne off in fun and (good care she
took not to ask !) had never returned ; a playbox
with a secret drawer ; a load of flannels, belts,
and jerseys, and a pair of spiked shoes unearthed
in the attic ; a packet of all the letters that Miss
Fowler and she had ever written to him, kept for
some absurd reason through all these years ; a
five-day attempt at a diary ; framed pictures of
racing motors in full Brooklands career, and
load upon load of undistinguishable wreckage
of tool-boxes, rabbit-hutches, electric batteries, tin
soldiers, fret-saw outfits, and jig-saw puzzles.
Miss Fowler at the window watched her come
432 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
and go, and said to herself, ' Mary's an old woman.
I never realised it before.'
After lunch she recommended her to rest.
* I'm not in the least tired,' said Mary. ' I've
got it all arranged. I'm going to the village at
two o'clock for some paraffin. Nellie hasn't
enough, and the walk will do me good.'
She made one last quest round the house
before she started, and found that she had over-
looked nothing. It began to mist as soon as she
had skirted Vegg's Heath, where Wynn used to
descend — it seemed to her that she could almost
hear the beat of his propellers overhead, but there
was nothing to see. She hoisted her umbrella and
lunged into the blind wet till she had reached the
shelter of the empty village. As she came out of
Mr. Kidd's shop with a bottle full of paraffin in
her string shopping-bag, she met Nurse Eden, the
village nurse, and fell into talk with her, as
usual, about the village children. They were
just parting opposite the 'Royal Oak/ when a
gun, they fancied, was fired immediately behind
the house. It was followed by a child's shriek
dying into a wail.
' Accident ! ' said Nurse Eden promptly, and
dashed through the empty bar, followed by Mary.
They found Mrs. Gerritt, the publican's wife, who
could only gasp and point to the yard, where a
little cart-lodge was sliding sideways amid a clatter
of tiles. Nurse Eden snatched up a sheet drying
before the fire, ran out, lifted something from the
ground, and flung the sheet round it. The sheet
turned scarlet and half her uniform too, as she
MARY POSTGATE 433
bore the load into the kitchen. It was little Edna
Gerritt, aged nine, whom Mary had known since
her perambulator days.
' Am I hurted bad ? ' Edna asked, and died
between Nurse Eden's dripping hands. The sheet
fell aside and for an instant, before she could shut
her eyes, Mary saw the ripped and shredded body.
' It's a wonder she spoke at all,' said Nurse
Eden. ' What in God's name was it ? '
' A bomb,' said Mary.
' One o' the Zeppelins ? '
' No. An aeroplane. I thought 1 heard it on
the Heath, but I fancied it was one of ours. It
must have shut off its engines as it came down.
That's why we didn't notice it.'
' The filthy pigs ! ' said Nurse Eden, all white
and shaken. ' See the pickle I'm in ! Go and tell
Dr. Hennis, Miss Postgate.' Nurse looked at the
mother, who had dropped face down on the floor.
' She's only in a fit. Turn her over.'
Mary heaved Mrs. Gerritt right side up, and
hurried off for the doctor. When she told her
tale, he asked her to sit down in the surgery till
he got her something.
' But I don't need it, I assure you," said she.
' I don't think it would be wise to tell Miss Fowler
about it, do you ? Her heart is so irritable in
this weather.'
Dr. Hennis looked at her admiringly as he
packed up his bag.
' No. Don't tell anybody till we're sure/ he
said, and hastened to the ' Royal Oak,' while
Mary went on with the paraffin. The village
2 F
434 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
behind her was as quiet as usual, for the news had
not yet spread. She frowned a little to herself,
her large nostrils expanded uglily, and from time
to time she muttered a phrase which Wynn, who
never restrained himself before his women-folk, had
applied to the enemy. ' Bloody pagans ! They
are bloody pagans. But,' she continued, falling
back on the teaching that had made her what she
was, * one mustn't let one's mind dwell on these
things.'
Before she reached the house Dr. Hennis, who
was also a special constable, overtook her in his
car.
' Oh, Miss Postgate,' he said, ' I wanted to tell
you that that accident at the " Royal Oak " was
due to Gerritt's stable tumbling down. It's been
dangerous for a long time. It ought to have been
condemned.'
' I thought I heard an explosion too,' said
Mary.
' You might have been misled by the beams
snapping. I've been looking at 'em. They were
dry-rotted through and through. Of course, as
they broke, they would make a noise just like a
gun.'
' Yes ? ' said Mary politely.
' Poor little Edna was playing underneath it,'
he went on, still holding her with his eyes, ' and
that and the tiles cut her to pieces, you see ? '
' I saw it,' said Mary, shaking her head. ' I
heard it too.'
'Well, we cannot be sure.' Dr. Hennis
changed his tone completely. ' I know both you
MARY POSTGATE 435
and Nurse Eden (I've been speaking to her) are
perfectly trustworthy, and I can rely on you not
to say anything — yet at least. It is no good to
stir up people unless '
' Oh, I never do — anyhow,' said Mary, and Dr.
Hennis went on to the county town.
After all, she told herself, it might, just
possibly, have been the collapse of the old stable
that had done all those things to poor little Edna.
She was sorry she had even hinted at other things,
but Nurse Eden was discretion itself. By the
time she reached home the affair seemed increas-
ingly remote by its very monstrosity. As she
came in, Miss Fowler told her that a couple of
aeroplanes had passed half an hour ago.
' I thought I heard them,' she replied, ' I'm
going down to the garden now. I've got the
paraffin.'
' Yes, but — what have you got on your boots ?
They're soaking wet. Change them at once.'
Not only did Mary obey but she wrapped the
boots in a newspaper, and put them into the string
bag with the bottle. So, armed with the longest
kitchen poker, she left.
* It's raining again,' was Miss Fowler's last
word, ' but — I know you won't be happy till
that's disposed of.'
' It won't take long. I've got everything down
there, and I've put the lid on the destructor to
keep the wet out.'
The shrubbery was filling with twilight by the
time she had completed her arrangements and
sprinkled the sacrificial oil. As she lit the match
436 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
that would burn her heart to ashes, she heard a
groan or a grunt behind the dense Portugal laurels.
' Cheape ? ' she called impatiently, but Cheape,
with his ancient lumbago, in his comfortable
cottage would be the last man to profane the
sanctuary. ' Sheep,' she concluded, and threw in
the fusee. The pyre went up in a roar, and the
immediate flame hastened night around her.
' How Wynn would have loved this ! ' she
thought, stepping back from the blaze.
By its light she saw, half hidden behind a laurel
not five paces away, a bareheaded man sitting very
stiffly at the foot of one of the oaks. A broken
branch lay across his lap — one booted leg protrud-
ing from beneath it. His head moved ceaselessly
from side to side, but his body was as still as the
tree's trunk. He was dressed — she moved side-
ways to look more closely — in a uniform something
like Wynn's, with a flap buttoned across the chest.
For an instant, she had some idea that it might
be one of the young flying men she had met at
the funeral. But their heads were dark and glossy.
This man's was as pale as a baby's, and so closely
cropped that she could see the disgusting pinky
skin beneath. His lips moved.
' What do you say ? ' Mary moved towards
him and stooped.
* Laty ! Laty I Laty ! ' he muttered, while his
hands picked at the dead wet leaves. There was
no doubt as to his nationality. It made her so
angry that she strode back to the destructor,
though it was still too hot to use the poker there.
Wynn's books seemed to be catching well. She
MARY POSTGATE 437
looked up at the oak behind the man ; several of
the light upper and two or three rotten lower
branches had broken and scattered their rubbish
on the shrubbery path. On the lowest fork a
helmet with dependent strings, showed like a
bird's-nest in the light of a long-tongued flame.
Evidently this person had fallen through the tree.
Wynn had told her that it was quite possible for
people to fall out of aeroplanes. Wynn told her
too, that trees were useful things to break an
aviator's fall, but in this case the aviator must
have been broken or he would have moved from
his queer position. He seemed helpless except
for his horrible rolling head. On the other hand,
she could see a pistol case at his belt — and Mary
loathed pistols. Months ago, after reading certain
Belgian reports together, she and Miss Fowler
had had dealings with one — a huge revolver with
flat-nosed bullets, which latter, Wynn said, were
forbidden by the rules of war to be used against
civilised enemies. l They're good enough for us,'
Miss Fowler had replied. ' Show Mary how it
works.' And Wynn, laughing at the mere possi-
bility of any such need, had led the craven winking
Mary into the Rector's disused quarry, and had
shown her how to fire the terrible machine. It
lay now in the top-left-hand drawer of her toilet-
table — a memento not included in the burning.
Wynn would be pleased to see how she was not
afraid.
She slipped up to the house to get it. When
she came through the rain, the eyes in the head
were alive with expectation. The mouth even
438 A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
tried to smile. But at sight of the revolver its
corners went down just like Edna Gerritt's. A
tear trickled from one eye, and the head rolled
from shoulder to shoulder as though trying to
point out something.
* Cassee. Tout cassee,' it whimpered.
* What do you say ? ' said Mary disgustedly,
keeping well to one side, though only the head
moved.
1 Cassee,' it repeated. ' Che me rends. Le
medicin ! Toctor ! '
1 Nein ! said she, bringing all her small German
to bear with the big pistol. ' Ich haben der todt
Kinder gesehn.'
The head was still. Mary's hand dropped.
She had been careful to keep her finger off the
trigger for fear of accidents. After a few moments'
waiting, she returned to the destructor, where the
flames were falling, and churned up Wynn's
charring books with the poker. Again the head
groaned for the doctor.
1 Stop that ! ' said Mary, and stamped her foot.
1 Stop that, you bloody pagan ! '
The words came quite smoothly and naturally.
They were Wynn's own words, and Wynn was a
gentleman who for no consideration on earth
would have torn little Edna into those vividly
coloured strips and strings. But this thing
hunched under the oak-tree had done that thing.
It was no question of reading horrors out of
newspapers to Miss Fowler. Mary had seen it
with her own eyes on the ' Royal Oak ' kitchen
table. She must not allow her mind to dwell
MARY POSTGATE 439
upon it. Now Wynn was dead, and everything
connected with him was lumping and rustling and
tinkling under her busy poker into red black dust
and grey leaves of ash. The thing beneath the
oak would die too. Mary had seen death more
than once. She came of a family that had a
knack of dying under, as she told Miss Fowler,
' most distressing circumstances.' She would stay
where she was till she was entirely satisfied that
It was dead — dead as dear papa in the late
'eighties ; aunt Mary in 'eighty-nine ; mamma in
'ninety-one ; cousin Dick in 'ninety-five ; Lady
McCausland's housemaid in 'ninety-nine ; Lady
McCausland's sister in nineteen hundred and one ;
Wynn buried five days ago ; and Edna Gerritt
still waiting for decent earth to hide her. As she
thought — her underlip caught up by one faded
canine, brows knit and nostrils wide — she wielded
the poker with lunges that jarred the grating at
the bottom, and careful scrapes round the brick-
work above. She looked at her wrist-watch. It
was getting on to half-past four, and the rain was
coming down in earnest. Tea would be at five.
If It did not die before that time, she would be
soaked and would have to change. Meantime,
and this occupied her, Wynn's things were burning
well in spite of the hissing wet, though now and
again a book-back with a quite distinguishable
title would be heaved up out of the mass. The
exercise of stoking had given her a glow which
seemed to reach to the marrow of her bones. She
hummed — Mary never had a voices — to herself.
She had never believed in all those advanced views
44Q A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES
— though Miss Fowler herself leaned a little that
way — of woman's work, in the world ; but now she
saw there was much to be said for them. This,
for instance, was her work — work which no man,
least of all Dr. Hennis, would ever have done.
A man, at such a crisis, would be what Wynn
called a ' sportsman ' ; would leave everything to
fetch help, and would certainly bring It into the
house. Now a woman's business was to make a
happy home for — for a husband and children.
Failing these — it was not a thing one should allow
one's mind to dwell upon — but
1 Stop it ! ' Mary cried once more across the
shadows. ' Nein, I tell you ! Ich haben der
todt Kinder gesehn.'
But it was a fact. A woman who had missed
these things could still be useful — more useful
than a man in certain respects. She thumped like
a pavior through the settling ashes at the secret
thrill of it. The rain was damping the fire, but
she could feel — it was too dark to see — that her
work was done. There was a dull red glow at
the bottom of the destructor, not enough to char
the wooden lid if she slipped it half over against
the driving wet. This arranged, she leaned on
the poker and waited, while an increasing rapture
laid hold on her. She ceased to think. She gave
herself up to feel. Her long pleasure was broken
by a sound that she had waited for in agony
several times in her life. She leaned forward and
listened, smiling. There could be no mistake.
She closed her eyes and drank it in. Once it
ceased abruptly.
MARY POSTGATE 441
1 Go on,' she murmured, half aloud. ' That
isn't the end.'
Then the end came very distinctly in a lull
between two rain-gusts. Mary Postgate drew
her breath short between her teeth and shivered
from head to foot. ' That's all right,' said she
contentedly, and went up to the house, where she
scandalised the whole routine by taking a luxurious
hot bath before tea, and came down looking, as
Miss Fowler said when she saw her lying all
relaxed on the other sofa, ' quite handsome ! '
THE BEGINNINGS
It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late
With long arrears to make good,
When the English began to hate.
They were not easily moved,
They were icy willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the English began to hate.
Their voices were even and low,
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show,
When the English began to hate.
It was not preached to the crowd,
It was not taught by the State.
No man spoke it aloud,
When the English began to hate.
It was not suddenly bred,
It will not swiftly abate,
Through the chill years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the English began to hate.
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